Class C. 1, PRICE, 30 CENTS. No. 26. 

(Travels.) (May 35, 1880.) 

THE 

STANDARD SERIES 



Copyrighted, 1880, by I. K. FUNK & CO. 



LrBEEAL EOYALTY PAID ON ALL NEW BOOKS BY FOREIGN AUTHOBS PKENTED IN THIS SERIES. 



OUTDOOE LIFE IN EUEOPE 

SKETCHES OF MEN AND MANNERS, PEOPLE AND PLACES, DUfJNG TWO SUMMERS ABROAD 
By REV. ED^'^RD R. THWXN'G 

PEOPESSOB OP RHETORIC AND TOCAL CULTTJEE. 



ILLUSTRATED. 



COPYKIGHTED, 1880, BY I. K. FUNK iS; CO. 






ITBB UBRARY 
or CONGRESS 

WASHINGTON 



NEW YOEK 

I. K. FUNK & CO., PUBLISHEES 

10 AJ>rD 12 Dey Street 



Enteied at the New York Post OflSce as second-class matter. 



How Clergymen and Others are Helping 

STANDARD SERIES. 

CANNOT YOU HELP? 



Got his Bookseller to Order. 

I received your circular respecting New Boolcs at low prices. Instead of 
ordering from you those I wished, I took the circular to a leading Ijookseller here 
and explained the plan, getting him to order a supply through the American News 
Company. They arrived two weeks ago, and are having a large sale. Tour plan 
for supplying the masses with the best modern books is wise and benevolent, and 
deserves the hearty support of all right-thinking men. 

Peterborough, Canada. (Rev.) W. C. Beadshaw. 



Preached on the Subject. 



There is no work more important than the dissemination of good literature. 
Yesterday 1 preached on this subject, and exhibited your books in the pulpit. 
Moniville, Mass. j_ "y^ Bendek 

WiU Recommend them from the Pulpit. 

I have a large congregation, representing a community of great readers ; but 
it Is lamentably true that much that is read is trashy, if not pernicious, and I have 
long been impressed with the idea that the cheapness of such literature was one of 
the secrets of its almost universal difEu.sion. I hereby order some of your books. 
K they are as you describe them, I will not hesitate to take them into my pulpit 
and publicly recommend them to my people. 

RushvUle, 111. -SVj,. Stevenson. 

What a Clergyman thinks to be the duty of Clergjrmen. 

(Rev.) E. H. Roys. 



Every minister ought to advertise for you. 
Jlousatonic^ Mas, 



Told the Bookseller. 

The three numbers of Standard Series to hand. They are much superior to 
what I expected. I called the attention of our principal bookseller to them im- 
mediately, and you will hear from him to-day. 

Wilkesbarre, Pa. Rev. t c. Edwards. 

Adopted as Readers in the Schools. 

I have called the attention of our School Committee and High-School teachers 
to your Standard Series, and they are to be adopted as readers in the Amesljury 
Schools. I shall also try the Salisbury Schools. 

Amesburrj, Mass. John F. Johnson, Bookseller. 

A Pastoral Assistant. 

There is too much trash in circulation. On a railway train, a few days a^ro I 
asked the news-agent for some of his best reading matter, and he produced "His 
Sweet Little Wife," "Jennie's First Love," and other such nonsense. Tour 
"John Ploughman " was such a treat to me that I can hardly wait untO I can "et 
others of the series. I handed " Ploughman " to a poor lady, too poor to buy it"in 
ita costly form. She says I must let her keep it. She has been a great gossip. I 
am sure this dose of Spnrgeon will do her good. 

Brooklyn, iV. r. ' g 

Gives Circulars to his Friends. 

I am pleased with your plan of publishing cheap books. Please send me a 
package of your circulars that I may give them to my friends. 1 am determined 
to make you and your work known. 

Philadelphia, Pa. Thomas Murpht, D.D. 

Put the Books in Every Family. 

I am delighted with your plan. I intend to make an effort to pnt the " Life of 
Christ" and the " Life of St. Paul " in every family of my congregation. 

PtJce, N. Y. jjj,,^ Q g^ ClEVINQEK. 



Commending the Standard Series in Articles for the Press. 

9™«r' ^f"''/- •^'''„^'™' "■"='" "' ^'- ^^"^'^ Church, Macon, Ga., wites to the 
b^k^n ''""'"f '"::• P;";^°°'5. V''-. ^ hearty complimentary article on the cheap 
book movement. The following are extracts from tliis excellent article : 

"I write simply in the interest of cheap and good literature. Thou-h some 
notice has been taken of the fact by newspapers. It is, perhaps, not generally kno^ 
that a real revolution in the making and selling of books is now in progress." 

"Every clergyman can do a great deal in spreading abroad this literature through 
his congregation. He can inform his people of such cheap books-and surely this 
IS no derogation of his functions-and he can himself act as an agent in procuring 
them. Many persons who desire such things do not wish to take the trouble to 
send a post-offlce order, but will be willing to hand the amount to their rector or to 
some one named by him." 

"This is surely a good cause, viz. : the putting into the hands of the people at 
popular prices, the best books of the day. Should not all co-operate in it f " 

Many other clergymen and other friends have written newspaper articles most 
highly recommending our series. Will not all who have access to the columns of 
papers help along this work ? 

Selling them to his Congregation. 

I am greatly interested in your work, and have sold a great number of your 
, books to members of my congregation. I regard this movement as of great im- 
j portance to the public welfare, and \vill help it forward all I can. I buy of a news- 
I dealer in Syracuse. 
j Lysander, N. Y. ^ ^^ g^^_ 

; Would like to Start a Thousand Men at the Work of Selling. 

' When I first saw notice of your pubUcations I could not believe it possible I 
thought the postage alone on "John Ploughman" would be more than twelve 
cents. Now I am asking myself what can be more wonderful than this answer to 
my prayers ! How often, when travelling by rail, have I seen pert yonn.^ men or 
boys .selling dime novels by the score, when I could not dispose of a sin^c-le ^ood 
book ! Then how I prayed that the time would come when good books could be 
sold equally as cheap ! I am growing old, and know my time to work is drawing 
to a close. I wish to go about as colporteur to sell your books. I would like to 
start a thousand men at it. I am exceedingly amazed that men of wealth do not 
at once interest themselves in this great work. 

McMinnmlle, Tenr,. j. e. Haggard. 

[ 

Carlyle Introduced as a Text-Book. 

A teacher writes : " I have introduced Carlyle in my school ; my scholars are 
reading from it. It is so cheap that they can all buy it. In this way they become 
acquainted with standard authors, and learn to read at the same time." 

Spoken of at Prayer-Meeting. 

A clergyman writes : "Last Wednesday evening I spoke of your great enter- 
prise, and, as a result, I enclose you money for twenty-three copies of ' Manliness 
of Christ.' " 

Just the Thing for Literary Societies and Social Clubs. 

Many clergymen are encouraging, in their congregations or towns, the forma- 
tion of literary societies or circles for the cultivation of a taste for higher literature. 
The most practical plan which we have seen tried, the following will indicate : It 
is announced at the next meeting that the subject will be "Macaulay;" one is 
appointed to read or extemporize a brief sketch of the life of this author ; another 
to give an analysis of his style ; the remainder to read extracts from his Essays or 
other writings. In the same way Carlyle and Thomas a Kempis and Ruskin and 
Tennyson are discussed. In twelve months it will be surprising to see what im- 
provement has been made. The Standard Series is placing books within the reach 
of the humblest, so that every member of the society can buy something of the 
writings of the author to be discussed. 



L- 



l^^- 



STANDARD SERIES. 

I. K. Funk & Co., New York. 



CLASS C-l. 

Tbavelh. 



OUTDOOE LIFE IK EUKOPE. 

SKETCHES or MEN AND MANNEES, PEOPLE AND PLACES, 

DURING TWO SUMMERS ABROAD. 



By REV. EDWARD PAY SON THWING, 

OF BROOKLYN, N. Y. AUTHOR OF "HANDBOOK OP ILLD§THATIONS," " VOCAL CULTURE," ETC. 



CONTENTS. 

, PAGE 

Ireland and the Irish 1 i Chapter 5 

Scotland 6 " 6 

England and Wales \... . . 10 " 7 

France and Belgium 18 



Holl^vnd and Germany 22 

Switzerland ' 25 

Italy [...[[[[[[[][[[]'.'.[[.[[[[ as 



CHAPTER I. 

IKELAND AND THE lEISH. 

AUIUVAL AT QUEENSTOWN. 

" All ashore for Qiwcimtown .'" was a welcome call. Nine da3's we 
liad spent out of sight of land on 77ie Queen, of the National Line, 
with a large and pleasant ((jmiKuiy. and in the enjoyment of abun- 
dant comforts. Two weeks \\ ere now to be given to the beautiful 
Emerald Isle. 

Nothing more delicious could be desired than that dewy June 
morning on which we laniled. All was beauty and freshness. 
■'Jocund day stood tiptoe on tlie niisly mounlain top." The solid 
earth under our feet seemed guoil to tread upon, and the green fields 
and blue heavens wore a loveliness we could not describe. Hungry 
as we were, some of tlie party started to see the sun rise from the 
lieights of Qneenstown and lo enjoy a landscape which an Eastern 
traveler compares to the Bosphorus. They came liack loaded with 
evergreen, ivy leaves, daisies and buttercups. After an ordinary 
breakfast, at an extraordinary price, at "The European," we rode by 
rail to Cork, a short but charming trip along the winding Lee, 
through meadows where sheep and oxen fed, by humble, whitewash- 
ed cottages and lordly castles, quaint villages and ancient ruins, 
until we reached 

THE CITY OF CORK. 

An Irish nobleman once asked Foote, at whose table wine flowed 
freely, if he had been to see Cork. "No, my lord, but I've seen 
many drmoingn of.it this evening!" Core was a native monarch. 
Some, however, derive the name from C^orcagh, a swamp, the city 
being founded by the Danes on several mar.shy islands. Two hun- 
dred years ago these were drained and consolidated, and other im- 
provements made. Lord Orrery's letter to Dean Swift, in 1736, does 
not, indeed, flatter the place or people, for he says, "materials' for a 
letter are as hard to be found as money, sense, honesty, or truth!" 
The great painter, James Barry, left here in boyhood, never to re- 
turn. "Cork gave me breath, but never would have given me 
bread," he said. Camden, in the sixteenth century, says that "it is 
a pretty town, well peopled, but so beset with rebels they faine keepe 
alwaies a set watch and ward, and dare not marrie their daughters 
forth into the country, but make marriages one with another, where- 
by all the citizens are linked together." The military importance of 
the place in the days of the Stuarts, is pictured in the old rhymer 
"Limerick was, Dublin is, but Cork will be 
The greatest city of the three. " 

Spencer, with photographic fidelity, describes the "island fair'' en- 
closed by "The spreading Lee, with his divided flood." 



We found Cork an attractive place as we rode in a jaunting car, 
three of us for two shillings, through the city and out into the 
suburbs, stopping now and then to make closer inspection. The 




JAUNTING CAR. 

jaunting, or jolting, car is a unique contrivance. In this etching, 
made for me by a resident, you see one side of the car. The other is 
like it. Each can fold up like the lid of a trunk. You sit directly 
over the wheel, and, like medicine, are sure "to be well shaken, be- 
fore taken" to your destination. The statue of the great reformer, 
Father Mathew, recalled a wonderful era in the temperance reform, 
when the " whisky trade was almost annihilated , when penal con- 
victions decreased about one-half between the years 1839 and 1845, 
and capital sentences from 66 to 14. Orangeman and Papist, Whig 
and Tory, joined in praise of the noble Capuchin, and ovations were 
had wherever he went." 

St. Finnel)ar's Cathedral is named after its founder who, in the 
seventh century, reared a monastery on the site of a pagan temple. 
St. Anne's steeple holds the famous bells of Shandon— Sea?! dun, 
or old fort. The poem of "Father Prout" is similar to the Latin 
rhymes beginning, 

Sabbata pango, 

Funera plango, 

Solemnia clango. 

We stood beneath the lofty tower, and listened with delight; 

" dwelling 
On each proud swelling 
Of the belfiy knelling 
Its bold notes free." 

Opposite is the butter storehouse, near which scores of unwashed 
Cork-onians stopped to stare at us as we stopped to stare at the 
steeple. 

Sunday's Well, bearing the date 1644, was full of interest. These 
holy wells, in quiet nooks, shaded by elm or sycamore, are numerous 
m Ireland. They are often walled or hooded over, and have shrines 
near by. Healing virtues are attributed to the waters. Southey has 
a ballad on the well of St. Keyne The grounds of Queen's College, 
the Grand Parade and the Mardyke, an avenue of stately shade 
trees, were also visited. A few minutes' ride by rail brought us to 



Copyriglit, 1S80, by I. K. Fdnk & Co. 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



BLABNEY CABTLB. 

Mr. Timothy Mahoney, brother of the poet just quoted, kindly 
took us ia his carriage to his Tweed Mills, where 450 persons are 
employed in preparing the wool for cloths and for hose. He also 
secured om- entrance to the castle, as we, through ignorance, had 
not taken the needed permit before leaving Cork. This ancient es- 
tate, the home of the MacCarty family for four hundred years, is full 
of picturesque beauty, with purling brooks decked with daffodil and 
lily; groves of beeches, with gravel walks and shady bowers; caves 
of bats and badgei's, but above all, renowned for the Blarney stone, 
near the top of a donjon 120 feet high. Says Croker, "It is sup- 
posed to give to him who kisses it the privilege of deviating from 
veracity with unblushing countenance whenever it may be conx-en- 
ient." The Lord of Blarney duped Cai-ew, the English governor, 
who besieged the place in 1603, hence the tradition. 

Our guide pointed out the stone, and a D.D., M.D,, and Ph.D., 
devoutl}- got upon their knees and gave a fervent oscular salutation 
to the rock. The writer declined to unfit himself for the authorship 
of "Outdoor-Life in Europe," bj' securing this dangerous gift, and 
so simply touched the stone and came away unanoiuted. After all. 
the "raal stone" is twenty feet below the .summit, inaccessible, and 
bears a Latin inscription with the date 1446. The guide, in consid- 
eration of the silver shilling entrance fee, considerately locates these 
stones where they will do the most good, and so humors the visitor 
by pointing out the one which has the date 1703. 

A sprinkling of the Shannon at Limerick, a few days after, secured 
the more desirable gift of " civil courage," which those waters, it is 
claimed will impart to all who take a dip. 

An hour's walk about the neighborhood, picking ferns, studying 
flora and feasting on the sequestered loveliness of the place, was fol- 
lowed by a relishable meal in a peasant's cottage. Tlie quaint sur- 
roundings and pleasant words exchanged will not be soon foi'gotten. 

KILLAKNEY LAKES. 

The first night ashore was spent in this paradise of beauty. Mr. 
S. Spillane, 3 Kenmare place, to whom our party of four had been 
commended, gave us neat, comfortable quarters at reasonable rates 
— bed and breakfast three shillings, other things in proportion. 
Private lodgings are to be ijreferred to a first-class hotel, where one 
impoverished victim said that he found ' ' it cost four pence to open 
your mouth and tup'ence to shut it." 

The day we spent on the lakes was one of mingled sunshine and 
showers. "Happy Jack" acted as guide, boatman and bugler. He 
was aided by his son, and his entire charge was but eight shillings 
for the company, the round boat trip being twenty-eight miles. We 
had not the fear of Thackeray before us, wlio said that the man was 
an ass who attempted this in a day. 

KOSS CASTLE 

was our point of departure, a picturesque ruin, which recalled the 
remark make to one who, about to publish some views of Irish 
scenery, asked, "To whom shall I dedicate my prints?" The reply 
was, " If your dedication is prompted by gratitude, no one deserves 
it more than Oliver Cromwell, whose cannon has made so many 
dilapidated buildings for you." 

This castle, five hundred years ago, was the home of tlie lordly 
O'Donoghues, and now, it is said, every seven years one of the chiefs 
returns to earth and drives his milk-white steeds across the lake at 
sunrise, his castle being restored by enchantment the moment the sun 
appears above the woods. The tourist sees one of the white horses 
in the limestone rock, strangelj' cut out by nature's chiselling; also a 
library of huge volumes, quite real in appearance and arrangement, 
the moss giving to the stony books a morocco binding, as it seems to 
dress the "round of beef," further on, with parsley. An old war- 
rior's footprints, his boat upside down, a mammoth cannon, and other 
curious deceits are pointed out. The red deer now look shyl}' out 
at us and disappear in the everglade; the gentle plover and the eagle 
that loves the hills, pass by ; our happy rowers time their strokes with 
joyous song, and the "Prince of Wales" cuts through the water as 
gracefully as when he of royal blood, whose name it bears, was borne 
along by it amid these same enchanting scenes. 

"Sweet Innisfallen," of which Moore has "\\Titten, charmed with 



its varied loveliness, but more flian all on account of the lore of thir- 
teen centuries which has thrown a beauty about it like the moss and 
ivy on its decaying ruins. We rambled about the crumbling cloisters, 
the grave-yard and chapel of the ancient monastery; saw where the 
monks ate, and where they walked under the shade of hollj% ash and 
yew; or looked out from the embowering arbutus tree of dai-k, shin- 
ing leaf and saw the misty peaks of Glena and the Purple Moun- 
tains. Brief but copious showers were interspersed with sunshine. 
We entered the Gap of Dunloe, a romantic valley, attended by the 
usual escort of jjeasant girls, importunate venders of milk, of whisky, 
and of lamb's wool hose. On our return to Ross Castle our bugler 
lilew blasts that woke the echoes among the hills, as we glided along 
\mder their lengthening shadows. We saw young Lord Kenmare 
fishing. Jack says that the Kenmare Mansion cost .-£260,000, and has 
been honored bj' the occupancy of Her Majesty in 1861. On land- 
ing we were again surrounded by sellers of various bric-a-brac made 
of arbutus wood. The evening hours were enlivened by choice music 
by a youthful composer, the daughter of our liost. The pouring 
rain prevented a morning visit to Muckross Abbey and other locali- 
ties. A few hours distant is 

LIMERICK. 

A thousand years ago the Danish settlers founded this town, and 
ever since in story and in song it has occupied a most interesting 
place. A quiet stroll alone through its streets and suburbs, chatting 
with the people here and there; a glance into shojas and houses, 
castles and churches; a pull across the waters of the noble Shannon, 
and an evening ride outside the ancient city walls as the vesper bells 
were ringing loud and clear from Mt. St. Vincent ; a lunch in the 
park, amid the pleasant shouts of romping children, and a visit to 
the chapel of the Dominicans — these outline a pleasant visit at 
Limerick. 

Around the docks, among the barracks, amid the convents and 
monasteries, along the avenues of fashion and in the lower precinctsi 
of the city, an ever-changing picture of outdoor Irish life presented 
itself, full of suggestiveness. Here were loads of deal or lumber 
grown in the woods of Maine, and queer-looking carts with handles 
projecting a yard behind, as if the cart were to be carried by hand; 
queerer looking donkeys of Irish and of Spanish breed, the size of 
whose ears indicated prodigious intellect, if this be a gauge; loads of 
peat fuel at the doors of the poor; old dames hanging out their wash- 
ing on the castle fence; bare-legged female beggars in long pelisses 
and blind fiddlers, sometimes called "door scrapers." Here were 
country milkmaids, driving home again their rude carts, having 
filled their empty firkins with bread, and there were red -coated ar- 
tillerjTnen loitering about the river banks. At the end of Thomond 
Bridge was the stone of " The Violated Treaty," on which, in 1691, 
was signed the surrender of Limerick to William of Orange. 

EOADSIDE SKETCHES. 

Here are two pictures from real life. The first is a peasant with 
her pack of peat or ' ' paraters" on her back. 







S^^»^- 



NATrVE HIBERNIANS. 

Her dress is somewhat abbreviated, and there seems to be little 
danger from corns on account of tight boots. Her hair drops over 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUKOPE. 



liei- forehead, gi viug the same air of stupidity to tlie face tliat her silly 
sisters ape, over tlie sea. Her hopeful son has set, and his hair, like 
suuset rays, doth branch out ia every direction. He, too, has little 
supei-fluous clothing. Poor people, let us follow them home and 
see where they live. 




AN IRISH CABIN. 

It is a wretched hovel. The walls are stone, the roof straw- 
thatched and ready to fall in. You see hundreds of these huts 
roofless, the agent of the lord who owns them having pulled down 
the yielding roof before it should crush the inmates. A little win- 
dow lets in light, and a stump of a chimney shows where smoke 
ought to come out, if the people can afford a fire. The puddle and 
rulibish by the door help to sicken, as hunger does to weaken. I 
have eaten a rclishalile meal in a low, one-story stone cottage, where 
neatness and thrift prevailed ; where the bread and butter were sweet 
and the milk was creamy. But the condition of the peasant varies 
with the conduct of the proprietor. 

Dr. Hepworth's letters, and those of James Redpath, recently 
received from the west and south of Ireland, reveal how ignorance, 
intemperance, and shiftlessness prevail, and consequent starvation. 
Under the blighting influence of Romanism, and under the practical 
serfdom in which some live, stiffering must ensue. America is 
sending ships with food. They need it. They want, as some one 
says, " 'taters rather than agitators." We can at least pray that wise 
counsel may prevail in England, and that the enormous wealth that 
is held in the hands of a few may be justly and generously employed, 
not merely in benefactions, but in the education and enfranciiise- 
ment of those who are down-trodden, priest-ridden, and consequently 
either hopeless in despondency or made the tool of ambitious dema- 
gogues who excite them to lawless violence and bloodshed. 

A talk with a toll-man on Welle.sley Bridge revealed some of the 
unabated hostility towards the English, which since has flamed out 
in violence and blood.shed. In the evening, that is, about 10 p.m., 
when it was too dark to write without a lamp, the piano at the hotel 
furnished entertainment. A guest, attracted by the music, came to 
me and requested "Yankee Doodle," saying that he was born in 
Ireland, but his sympathies were with America, where he had long 
lived. The old melody was played, evidently to his sincere gratifi- 
cation. 

"Look here, chambermaid, those .sheets don't look very clean," I 
said, on entering the room designated for my night's repose. "Oh! 
yes," was the good-natured reply, "we always change the sheets 
every fortnigldr "Ah! you do? Then fourteen different per.sons 
can use the same sheets?" "Every fortnight they are fresh and 
clean," was all the maid replied. The outside of that bed, rather 
than the inside, was used that night. As it was, the next day I 
began to rub. 

DUBLIN. 

Twenty-four years had made notable changes in this, as in other 
places visited. Now horse-cars, or trams, run in the streets, and 
numerous architectural improvements are seen. But no such weather 
was known in 1855. The papers said the mean temperature was 
about fifty-eight, decidedly "mean. " The term " summer" was but 
bitter irony for a season so cold and continuously wet. Again, I 
had the satisfaction of attending divine service at Christ Church 
Cathedral, and of reviving the memories of this ancient pile. While 
Canon Hartley was reading a little homilj^, or sermonette, sixteen 
minutes long, my thoughts recalled the history of other days. This 
edifice was begun 1038, and was founded on arches built by Danes 
for storage of merchandise. Epochs like the battle of Hastings, 



3 

1066; the Crusades, the discovery of America, the age of Elizabeth, 
of the Bourbons and the Stuarts, of the Huguenots and Puritans, the 
American Revolution, and later events passed rapidly through' the 
mind and made the age and venerableness of the edifice to stand in 
impressive contrast with the brevity and transitoriness of human life, 
The verger told me that £350,000 had been spent in recent restora- 
tions, and that only the transept walls remained of the original struc- 
ture. The music, as usual, was the most attractive feature of the 
service. At St. Patrick's, also, the cathedral singing was very elab- 
orate. Two evening meetings I attended in the elegant structure 
belonging to the Y. M. C. A,, and also assisted in a union sac- 
ramental service in the Baptist church, with Congregational, Bap- 
tist, and Presbyterian clergy. Dr, Eccles very courteously took me 
to hi,s residence at Rathmines, and desired my company on a week's 
excursion to Lough Neah, which pleasure could not be enjoyed, as 
other engagements were to be met. 

IIOWTII CASTLE 

is reached in a few minutes by rail from Dublin. It is well worth a 
visit, if one is interested in baronial and ecclesiastical antiquities, 
battle fields, cromlechs and Druidic remains. This "Marathon of 
Ireland " attracts also the geologist, naturalist, and marine artist, 
who find along the rocky bay and lofty promontory, among sepul- 
chral cairn and ancient fortress, abundant materials for study and 
enjoyment. A half day remained for a tour of fifty miles to Arklow, 
through the charming County of Wicklow and the sweet vale of 
Avoca, about which Thomas Moore has thrown an iueffaceble charm; 

" Oh ! the last rays of feeling and of life must depart 
Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart. 
There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet 
As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet." 

For miles the train ran by the rocky shore, with foaming breakers 
on one side and beautiful meadows on the other; while mountains, 
shadowy glens, dark tunnels, ruined monasteries and castles, gay 
seaside villas and old farmhouses diversified the way. The white 
hawthorne, the scarlet gorse, the daisy and buttercup, the fields of 
ripening flax, and the deep velvet green of sward and hedge, com- 
bined to make the rural scenery of that June day delightful in the ex- 
treme. Nor were the people the least interesting to study in their 
varied aspects. When David Wilkie travelled this island he found 
a mine unworked in his department of art. He found faces m which 
Velasquez, Murillo and Salvator Rosa would have delighted. So 
Scott saw, and sung of Ireland's charms; Croker, Carlton, Sullivan, 
Doyle, Hall and a score of other authors present engaging views of 
social life and old-time legends. 

" The Seven Churches," built by St. Kevin, who was born in the 
year 498, form, perhaps, the most attractive feature of the antiquities 
of the Wicklow district. The ruins of an ancient city of learning 
remain, prominent among which is the Round Tower, one of the 
most perfect in Ireland. Some regard these towers as treasure 
houses, others as steeples or watch towers, but the probability is that 
they were bell towers. Tradition makes them the resort of pagan 
worship long before St. Patilck's day. The Druid climbed the top 
and watched the day dawn. At the first glimpse of the .sun rising 
over the hills he cried "Baal " to each quarter of the heavens. The 
skylarks were the only signal that called the workmen who builded 
the Seven Churches. A beautiful blue-eyed maid was enamored of 
St. Kevin and begged to live by him, though only to lie at his feet. 
He sought relief by retiring to a stony nook, still pointed out, but 
as he woke, there stood the youthful tempter. Unlike St. Anthony, 
the saint clasped her, not in love, but in desperation, hurled her into 
the lake below, where she was drowned. 

Dashing on through woods of pine, of oak, and juniper, where 
leaping cascades and foaming rivers run, we reach Arklow, where 
the Cistercian monks founded a monastery 600 years ago. The 
picturesque ruins of the castle of the Ormunds attracted my atten- 
tion, and I sketched a view of the ivy-clad walls which Cromwell's 
cannon demolished in 1649. 

THE HOME OF GOLDSMITH. 

The little village of Lissoy or Aubm-n is near Athlone, two or 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



three hours' ride west from Dublin, and deserves a visit by all who 
have read the "Deserted Village." 




" A man severe was he, and stern to view; 
I knew him well, and every truant knew. 
Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace 
The day's disasters in his morning face; 
Full well the busy whisper circling round, 
Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned." 

The picture of the parson "passing rich with forty pounds a 
year" is remembered, and his hospitality to all, beggar, spendthrift 
01' orphan. 

" The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay, 
Sate by his fire and talked the night away ; 
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, 
Shoulder'd his crutch and show'd how fields were won." 




THE SOLDIER GUEST. 
CARLINGPOBD BAY. 

Six days gave me a pleasant acquaintance with this delightful dis- 
trict. From Dublin the route leads through localities of .special 
attractiveness to the scholar, the artist, and the antiquarian. The 
valley of the Boyne is one of the best agi-icultural distriot-s in Ireland, 
and ancient historical castles, priories and round towers abound as 
relics of olden times. The Skerries, Carlingford and Mourne moun- 
tains are promment among the objects along the coast, also Drog- 
heda, and Dujudalk. The Hill of Tara, where Irish kings once gath- 



ered, and sweet minstrels made music in their ears, recalls the verses 
of Moore about 

" The harp that "once through Tara's h;Tlls 
The soul of music shed, " 

The coronation stone is now in AVestminster Abbey. Mellifmil 
Abbey, Danish and Druidic remains, and the battle field of llie 
Boyne deserve a visit. It happened to be the 189th anni\xTsary, 
and as we crossed the stream an elderly man, who had studied the 
topographical facts of the battle, pointed some of them out to me. 

ROSSTEEVOH. 

The charming watering places about Newiy are easily reached by 
rail or carriage. If one has but little time Rosstrevor will claim 
priority, for it combines almost every element of rural and marine 
scenery, and it is the favorite resort of the wealthy classes during the 
suHimer. Narrowwater Castle is on the road thither, and the legends 
of six hundred years invest its mouldering walls with a sombre in-^ 
terest. Here a jealous lord imprisoned his beautiful Spanish wife, 
who .sat and wept in her wave-washed cell, as Bonnivard at Chil- 
lon, till grief "worked like madness in her brain." With lute in 
hand she sang her wild Iberian song, and the boatmen, as they 
passed the prison at evening, would hear her pensive voice 

" In sounds as of a captive lone, 
That mourns her woes in tongue unknown." 

Warrenport with its villas, shadj' walks and odorous gardens; the 
Vale of Arno, the "Tempe of Ireland," with groves of sycamore 
and palm, pine and arbutus, and the encircling mountains of a 
grand amphitheatre, arrest attention. A quiet stroll alone through 
the ancient church-yard ; a look at the elaborate Rosstrevor Cross 
and at the great Cloughmore on the mountain side, where Druids 
once worshipped in bygone ages, and a pleasant drive back to 
Newry at sunset will not soon be forgotten. The Carlingford dis- 
trict is not only famous for its enticing natural scenery but for its 
luscious oysters, as piquant and delicious as ever were offered Nep- 
tune by Thetis and her maids. These are the special delight of 
epicures. We tasted none, but were offered at Rosstrevor for a six- 
pence a box of "Talmage Voice Lozenges." 



The fir-st mention of Newry is 900 B.C. Traditions of Ossian's 
heroes are numerous, and of the fierce sea kings 830 A.D. A visit to 
the remains of the abbey and the 3'ew trees connected with St. 
Patrick's memor}' gives new interest to the study of early monasti- 
cism in Ireland. The town was long ago laihpooned by Dean Swift 
in his caustic couplet, 

' ' High church, low steeple. 
Dirty streets and proud people." 

Now put Thackeray's contradiction beside this, when he commends 
its "business-like streets, bustling and clean; comfortable and hand- 
some public buildings; a sight of neatness and comfort exceedingly 
welcome to au English traveller," and its " plain, downright gentry." 
The" hospitable mansion of Mr. Henry Barcroft at the Glen was a 
welcome resting place, as was also the home of Mr. John Grubb 
Richardson at Gilford. Mr. R. is widelj' known as a wealthy linen 
manufacturer and a practical Christian philanthropist. The "model 
town" of Bessbrook will be his most enduring monument when he 
is here no more. Sen(s in, coiluin redmt. This place was established 
thirty-five yeai's ago and is now known all over the world for the 
"Bessbrook Spinning Mills," which emploj' 2912 workmen, whose 
wages amount yearly to £58,000. The main building in 684 feet 
long, and 749 power looms with 22,000 spindles weave eight miles 
of fabric a day or 2500 miles a j'ear. A visit to these mills revealed 
many curious facts. In a table-cloth three and a half yards long 
there are 70 miles of linen yarn ; 35 tons of rough flax are consumed 
each week, 1800 tons in a year, making a movement in spinning 
eveiy minute eipial to a single thread 100 miles long, or 5.5,000 miles 
in a day of nine and a half hours. In a year this line would encir- 
cle the globe 669 times, or stretch to the moon and back 84 times. 
There are 9000 tons of coal used yearly, and seven loaded supply 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



vessels may be seen at a time in Carlingford Bay, waiting on these 
industries. Other statistics copied from returns to government 
might be added to show the magnitude of this enterprise ; but tlie 
social and moral features are more notable. Bessbrook is a thorough 
temperance town, with no beer shops, pawnbrokers, paupers, police 
or jail. Intoxicating liquors are excluded, . and total abstinence is 
encouraged by precept, example and reward. Various religious de- 
nominations, Protestant and Roman Catholic, have their places of 
worship, and excellent school privileges are enjoyed. On one ex- 
cursion to Moyallon House, the delightful residence of their revered 
friend and patron, there were upwards of 1000 happy children gath- 
ered. During my stay one' of these festivals occui-red— a most joy- 
ous scene. Games were played In a broad field, with leaping and 
swinging and foot-races, in which boys and girls participated. A 
race where the contestants were tied up in bags was the most ludi- 
crous imaginable. There was marching, with banners waving in 
hand; a good turnout of old, wrinkled dames with the ancient straw 
lionnets and gowns of bygone years; songs and speeches; a stuffing 
of fruit, buns and jams; and a flight of small balloons. 

In the Bessbrook school-rooms the rich and the poor meet together, 
bright merry-hearted children. The average attendance is 500, out 
of 619 enrolled. The studies range from A B C to Euclid. In the 
infant room there were 150, in nine rows of benches, rising one 
above the other. The children were so orderly and uniform as to 
, look "like a sheet of postage stamps." Their calisthenic or move- 
ment songs were rendered with admirable time and tune. The 
smallest child was a little under three and the oldest seven years of 
age. There was good ventilation and no " institutional odor " about 
the apartments. The excellent penmanship of the older boys was 
next examined, and then they answered my questions in history and 
geography. 

" What are some of the colonies of Great Britian?" "Australia, 

India, United States -" "Hold on! to-morrow is Fourth of July. 

It won't do to lay claim to Yankee-land just now!" 

Hearty laughter followed, in which the blushing boy and mortified 
teacher joined. They concluded to substitute the word Canada for 
United States, so war was averted. - The Stars and Stripes were seen 
at my window the next morning, and two bciUitifiil children, subjects 
of the Queen, joined with me in exploding a grain or two of powder 
in honor of the day. 

Bessbrook Granite Works employ 160 workmen in three quarries 
Their pay roll is £7500 yearly. The polished spiral staircase of blue 
gi-anite, with entrance steps 23 feet long, seen in the Town Hall, 
Manchester, is one of the specimens- of their workmanship. Supt. 
Flynn said that nowhere in America was he more courteously 
treated than in Quincy, whose quarries he inspected. He found the 
hills there were stone, but the hearts were wai'm and responsive. 
His line gray granite goes all over the world. In a word, Bessbrook 
is a place of remarkable interest, and a most suggestive example of 
what practical philanthropy can do. A more intelligent audience I 
seldom have had than gathered to hear a lecture on American life. 
The opportunity to question the lecturer at the close was promptly 
improved, and queries were proposed as to the Negro exodus, the 
Chinese problem, female education, the influence of college life on 
teetotal habits, and other matters of recent agitation. During this 
July visit my chamber was heated with a coal flre, and every night 
an uninvited but welcome bed-fellow was introduced in the shape of 
a jug of hot water! The torrid waves of which American papers in- 
formed us, came nowhere near us till we reached Heidelberg. 



LONDONDEEEY 

was of all places the most alluring in Ireland. The impression of 
Charlotte Elizabeth's " Siege of Derry" on my boyhood's imagina- 
tion was vivid and ineffaceable. It is hard to describe the rush of 
emotions as one enters the Apprentice Gate which Bryan McAlister 
and his intrepid comrades closed, on that memorable seventh of 
December, 1688, making " the maiden city" a sacred sanctuary; or 
climbs the lofty walls that for seven months shut in those to whom 
liberty of conscience was dearer than love of life; or stands within 
the church-yard where their dust is piled up in a single mound of 
rich mould ; or, above all, as one sits in that old cathedral, where the 
valiant preacher-soldier Walker inspired the living, comforted the 
dying, and buried the dead. I had just read over again the story of 
the siege, of the domestic loves and ueighboriy acquaintances of the 
McAlisters; of the unconquerable loyalty of the defenders and the 
fortitude of the uncomplaining martyrs, as one after another died 
by starvation; of that moonlight night when Letitia and her mother 
met death while sleeping, being struck by a bomb that tore its mur- 
derous way through the roof, and of that tender burial scene in the 
cathedral, just before day-dawn, when through the shattered win- 
dows glared the red light of the flery beacon on the cathedral roof, 
and staggering skeletons stood about the dead, one saying as he 
looked on it, "These came out of great triijulation ;" another, 
" These were slain for the testimony of Jesus;" a third, "The noble 
army of martyrs praise thee!" and a famished mother with a starving 
infant at her dry breast added, " They shall hunger no more," while 
a school-boy whispered in Latin his graceful tribute, 
" Dulee et decorum, est pro patria mori." 



* A snnilar error was made by an English gentleman, who remarked 
to Rev. J. T. Headley, " Let me see, does New York belong to the 
Canadas yet?" He also quotes the remark of an English literary 
lady who said that she supposed the States would be very cool in 
summer on account of the winds blowing over the C'ovdilleras moun- 
tains!" Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton invited Garrison the philanthro- 
pist to breakfast, having never seen him. When introduced, he 
lifted both hands in astonishment, saying, " I thought you were a 
black man! I have invited this company to see the black advocate 
of emancipation." 

A Boston gentleman recently dined in London with a wealthy and 
"highly educated" English family, every member of which was of 
the opinion that Boston was a Southern city, and had been the hot- 
bed of " rebel " sentiment during the war. 



Through the still air of that summer's morning came shot and 
shell that scattered death and destruction, and red-hot cannon balls 
that fired the houses through which they ploughed their way. Cats, 
mice, dogs and horses were devoured by the people in their 
extremity, yet they threatened death to any traitor who proposed 
suiTender. Looking from the tower over the lough seaward, the 
thrilling scene came before my imagination when the ships of Wil- 
liam bearing succor came up in sight of Derry. Flags were waved 
by men who were so weak as to reel under the weight of them, and 
prayer and shout went up together to tlie Lord of Hosts. The aged 
mother of Bi-yan had been carried up to the church battery to die. 
With her eye glazing in death she descried the laden- vessels in the 
distance. Lifting her emaciated hands to heaven she cried, " Lord, I 
have lived to pray, I come to praise thee!" and sweetly fell asleep 
in Jesus. The shell sent into the city by the enemy containing 
terms of surrender is seen in the vestibule of the cathedral. The 
mounds and monuments, the walls and cannon are all invested with 
romantic interest, as maraentoes of a struggle which had a marked 
influences on English liberty. 

The Londonderry of to-day is not without interest, but it was the 
historic Deny I came to see. A little time, however, was spent with 
Rev. R. Sewal), a resident Congregational pastor, in looking about 
the town, and an evening was spent in listening to a Synodic sermon 
before a R. P. Conference. The venerable preacher having held us 
an hour, at length reached the welcome word "Lastly!" for 
which we all had watched as they who watch for the morning. But 
he didn't stop! "Finally " followed, but he didn't mean it, for, hav- 
ing enlarged under that head, he then said, " In conclusion," which 
opened other exhortations with "first," and so on. My patience was 
exhausted. After all these positive assurances, "Lastly, Finally, In 
Conclusion," the man begun a new theme entitled, " A word to the 
members of the church!" I took my hat and took my leave. He 
may be talking still, for aught of proof to the contrary. 

THE giant's causeway. 

It is worth seeing, though Dr. Johnson, or somebody else, has said 
it is not worth "going to see." Having paid one-half crown each, 
the price from Portrush to the Causeway and back, eight of us 
mounted an open jaunting car. The distance each way is seven 
miles, and the scenery along the trendings of the rocky shore is most 
commanding. But didn't it rain? "Pour" is the word for those 
Irish showers. I had always favored " sprinkling," and everyday 
for just six weeks after leaving New York was sprinkled I--.- 



6 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



the "Watery skies, but this day we thought the thing a little over- 
done. 

DuNLDCE Castle was passed, the grandest and most gloomily ro- 
mantic relic of the old sea-kings in Europe, according to Sir John 
Manners. He says that there is no castle on the Rhine, or elsewhere, 
comparable to it in desolate, awe-inspiring grandeur. "How the 
towers and wall on the seaward side were built, I Cannot divine. 
What numbers of masons and builders miist have fallen into that 
gloomy sea before the last loophole was pierced ! It has been the 
scene of many strange occurrences, and the traditions connected with 
it would till a volume." The isolated rock on which it stands is 120 
feet high, and the chasm between it and the headland is passed by 
means of a natural arch and draw-bridge. The superstitious peas- 
ants still hear the wailing of a Banshee in a vaulted cell on the 
eastern side whenever death approaches any one of the Antrims. It 
is built of columnar basalt, the polygonal sections being clearly seen. 
The sea has gnawed out vast caverns beneath it, through which 
•»vind and wave roar or moan ceaselessly. 

A Corwiu zephyr coat had kept me tolerably dry during the ride, 
Init a walk of a mile or more must be taken to see the Chimney Tops 
— battered b.y the Spanish Armada, mistaken for the towers of Dun- 
luce Castle — the Giant's Organ, Pulpit, Theatre, Loom, Punch Bowl, 
Bagpipes, and othei' fanciful objects. The wind rose, and the rain 
beat down upon us so vehemently that for a while onv guide directed 
us to huddle together and squat under two or three umbrellas till the 
storm passed. He got his shilling apiece, and the rain did not trouble 
him. The barefooted aborigines also put in an appearance, each 
loaded with specimens of crystals and fossils, and with monotonous 
volubility repeated over and over the curious refractions and reflec- 
tions of the stone. Our reflections were decided!}' curious. A New 
York surgeon, Dr. C, succeeded at last in getting our guide to step 
along a little more lively and to omit large portions of the geological 
lingo which he had so faithfully committed to memory. 

"Gentlemen! here is the only triangular stone out of these 47,000! 
The polygonal—^ — " 

"That's enough, that's enough! call her triangle, as O'Connell 
said to the woman in Billingsgate ; there's nothing worse. " 

Our ride back to Portrush was sunny and pleasant. Scotland was 
seen across the bkie waters. From the railway carriage, just before 
sunset, I had a glimpse of the bright bosom of Lough Neagh. This 
is twenty miles long. But three lakes in Europe sm'pass it in ex- 
tent. Aside from its attractions to the angler, the sportsman, and 
the artist, its legends gives a charm to the lake. In the reign of 
the Stuarts the sick were said to be cured by its waters. This Ulster 
lake is said to have turned wood to stone. The old chronicler tells, 
too, of the sunken town seen beneath the placid surface with "ye 
rounde towers and hyghe shapen steeples and churches of ye land. " 
I regretted that I had not been able to accept the invitation to spend 
a week by the shores of this beautiful Irish lake, a guest of Dr. E., 
of Dublin. 

BELFAST. 

It is a new and prosperous place. True, Spenser speaks of it as 
having been a "good town" in 1315, yet a century ago there were 
less than 15,000 population, and many of the housos were straw- 
thatched cottages. During the Rebellion in America, the linen trade 
of Belfast made marked advance. The public buildings are attrac- 
tive. A ride out to Queen's College, a cordial greeting from the 
Venerable President, and a call on the T. M. C. A., will be remem- 
bered with lively satisfaction. At 8 P. M. I went aboard the Glas- 
gow steamer " Lima," and found a party of Boston friends on their 
Way to Scotland and the Continent, belonging to Prof. Tourjee's 
educational excursion. 



CHAPTER II. 

SOOTLAl^D. 

" There is magic in the sound !"— Flaqo. 
It is so. And why? How is it that "Caledonia, stern and wild," 
occupies so large a space in the thought of the scholar and the tourist? 
It is not her territorial extent; it is not the picturesqueness of her 



sceiiery; it is not her political importance or hel' material wealth; but 
is it not because Scotland has been the battle-ground of truth, the 
arena of moral conflictSj the birthplace of noble ideas? "From the 
bonnie highland heather of her loft)' summits, to the modest lily of 
the vale, not a flower but has blushed with patriot blood. From the 
foaming crest of Solway to the calm polished breast of Loch Katrine, 
not a river or lake but has swelled with the life-tide of freemen!" 

From boyhood, when these words of Flagg were familiar sounds 
On declamation day, and Scott's historic word-pictures of Scotland 
were my delight, I had longed to visit this land of poetry and ro- 
Inance. 

EDINBOEO. 

A student in the University kindly introduced me to private 
quarters near by, comfortably furnished. A quiet sitting-room and 
chamber adjoining, for myself and a young man travelling with me 
on my first visit to Scotland, were offered to us — service, gas and boots 
included — for the sum of four shillings each, weekly ! A very weakly 
charge, we thought. Fruit or meat was brought to us as ordered, and 
each item noted at cost, as Id., cup of tea; 3d., boiled egg; 4d., 
basket of strawberries, etc. Only one dish failed. One morning 1 
rang for our good woman and asked her, as she entered, to prepare 
us some Milk Toast. Nodding assent she retired, but soon came 
back, evidently bothered, to get once more the order of her guests. 
After a while she appeared with a pitcher of sour buttermilk! We 
stared at the pitcher and she stared at us, who both burst out into a 
hearty laugh. " Milk Toast !" was again ejaculated. Good Mrs. 
Duncan now owned up that she never had heard of it. I told her 
that it was not milk, still less sour milk, least of all sour buttermilk, 
but that Milk Toast meant toasted bread, browned and buttered 
and battered, as any Yankee housekeeper knows. But as the morn- 
ing was passing and Mrs. D. wished to retire to blush, we excused 
her from any fui-ther service at that time. 

King Aethttr's Seat, 833 feet high, was the first place visited, in 
order to get our bearings. From this grand coronation chair is had 
one of the most varied and historically interesting panoramas that 
Europe has to oiler. At your feet are the Salisbury Crags, St. 
Anthony's Well, the site of Effle Deane's cottage; beyond, Cow 
Gate, the Ancient Castle, St. Giles, the Home of Knox, the Gardens, 
the New City and the shining waters of the Firth of Foy. The loft)' 
Bass Rock, rising sheer 400 feet out of the sea, is remembered as the 
prison of persecuted Covenanters. The ruins of Tautallon's Towers, 
sung in "Marmion," the Ochil and Pentland Hills, and even the 
Highlands, 80 miles away, are seen in favorable weather. It is a 
picture of beauty that a quarter of a centur)' has not effaced. Nor 
have I forgotten the sound of a distant bagpipe, that then came mirr- 
muring through the quiet air; the ruddy faces of romping children 
who climbed the mountain with me, their fine complexion set off by 
the bright tartan that clothed them; the venturesome descent we 
made over a rocky precipice — lion-esco referrens — and the rambles 
afterwards about Old Holyrood and the Palace Gardens, where the 
apple tree and.sun dial of Mary Stuart specially interested us. The 
ancient relics within the palace need not be described, or even cata- 
logued. Though watched, we plucked a bit of hair from Lord 
Darnley's sofa, and plaster from Mary's room, where Rizzio was 
murdered on that fateful Saturday evening, March 9, 1566. The 
dreadful stains were viewed with becoming gravity, and we ex- 
pressed no doubt as to their genuineness. That they are dim may be 
attributed to the rash experiment attempted by an itinerant pedler of 
erasive soap, who, it is said, once visited Holyrood. . He was of a 
practical rather than of a romantic turn, and expressed surprise that 
ink spots or any other kind of spots should be allowed to perma- 
nently deface a floor otherwise clean. Quickly came out a bottle 
from his capacious pocket ! Kneeling — though not for adoration — 
the heartless iconoclast began to scour away the sacred stains, which 
for centuries had been so reverently guarded. The good woman in 
charge, "seeing the hope of her gains" about to disappear, protested 
against the sacrilege, but the ruthless wretch regarded not hei- 
tongue, nor did he cease till he felt across his nether parts blows 
from that other weapon which a woman wields in the activities and 
emergencies of domestic life. 

The Marian controversy has been long and sharp. Without 
opening it afresh, one can justly admire the talents of the beautiful 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



(|iifon whose tragic story is fsliniliar to all, and which is made all the 
more vivid to the imagination by a visit to Holyrood. Here is her 
liist prayer: 

'• O Domine Deus^ speravi in Te ! 
O care mi Jesu, nunc libera me. 
In dura catena, in misera poena, 

Desidero Te. 
Lanquendo, gemendo, In geuuflectendo 
Adoro, imploro, ut liberes me." 

Those were dreary days when Mary lived, and darlier ones for 
Scotland followed. Between 1661 and 1688 there were 18.000 im- 
prisoned, executed, or in other ways were subjected to violent perse- 
cutions for conscience sake. The murder of Margaret Wilson at 
Solway, the slaughter of 400 at Bothwell bridge, and other tragic 
scenes, invest localities throughout Scotland with something of the 
sad interest that clings to Ireland. 

Of the charms of Edinboro, in a historic, scenic or literary point of 
view, a volume might be written. Interviews with some of her 
honored citizens; sermons from divines like Candlish, Alexander, 
Bonar and White; a visit to the infirmaries where Syme and other 
eminent surgeons were then busy; investigations among some of the 
wynds and closes in company with a medical man, a graduate of 
Yale College; a ramble aroimd the Castle, rich in legends; a ride to 
Roslin Chapel, and a quiet stroll alone through "the caverned 
depths of Hawthornden," the hiding-place of huuted fugitives in the 
days of Scottish martyrdom— each of these might form a chapter. 



Then there is the valley of the Tweed, with Dryburgh, Abbots- 
ford and Melrose; the homes and haunts of poets and "Auld 
Rhymers," like Thomas of Earlstone, crowded with objects that 
delight tlie e.yc, while they keep aglow the nu-mory and imagina- 
tion 1 

Never can the impressions grow dim of an evening visit to 
"St. David's shrine," where Cistercian monks worshipped in the 
twelfth centurv, and around wlio.se ruins art,, poetry, and romance 




MELROSE ABBEY. 

have thrown such enduring charms. The minster bell slowly tolled 
the hour of nme. The day had passed and the long summer twilight 
of Scotland was slowly deepening into night as the porter opened 
his gate to my call and bade me enter. He saw that I wished to be 
alone, and did not follow. What a luxury is solitude in such a spot. 
The empty chatter of a crowd of sight-seers cheapens and makes in- 
sipid the pleasures of such a sacred hour. Architecturally, the ivy- 
clad shrme was picturesque The choir and transept ; the magnificent 
southern window, divided by four muUions and interlacing curves of 
graceful beauty; the carvings, columns, pinnacles, tombs and roofless 



chapel— all were studied and admired. But it was more than these 
ruins which were seen at that evening hour — 

" When distant Tweed was heard to rave, 
And owlets hoot o'er the dead man's grave." 

Leaning against the cloister door, I seem to see once more the 
solemn procession enter the shi-ine, with measured step and chanted 
song; again, through echoing aisles there came— 

" With sable cowl and scapular. 
And snow-white stoles in order due. 
The holy Fathers, two and two — 
And the bells tolled out their mighty peal 
For the departed spirit's weal!" 

The air seemed charged with voices, that swelled in pensive wail 
their " Dies irse. Dies ilia," till crowded crypt and answering arch 
reverberated with the sweetly solemn song of seven hundred years ago. 

THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS. 

"Aren't your legs cold?" .said I to a Highlander beside me on the 
boat that took us from Edinboro to Stirling. "I dare say they were 
at first, but I've got used to it." He evidently regarded trowsers 
only fit for feeble folk. A lusty fellow with them on would be a 
panta-loonatic in his eyes. From Alloa to Stirling by water is a dis- 
tance of twelve miles, just double that of an air line. ' ' The Links" 
abound in varied beauty. The sunny Ochil hills beyond ; the corn- 
fields and meadows along the valley 

"Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows;" 

ruins of Roman fortresses; smiling villages and lordly domains diver- 
sified the scenery on either hand. 
Stirling was a favorite among royalty. Well it might be 
Summa Summarum, " as a German tourist puts it. Rising betimes, 
I climbed to the top of the castle hill. I stood on the esplanade to 
see the guard relieved, and repeated Scott's lines— 

" Atdawn the towers of Stirling rang 
With soldier step and weapon clang, 
AVhile dmms with rolling note fore'tell 
Relief to weary sentinel. 

The Douglas room is a sadly Interesting room, defiled by James 
II., who murdered here in 1453 the Earl of Douglas when invited 
hither under the pi-otection of a safe conduct. In the vale below I 
lecalled a scene in AVaverly, and imitated the indignant leader of 
Balmawhapple by firing a pistol, aimed at the frowuhig bastions 400 
feet above. The dazzling gleam of the sentry's bayonet as he paoed 
along the lofty rampart at that sunrise hour is almost as fresh in 
memory to-day as on that July morning, 1855; eo, too, the exhilara- 
tion of the day's ride through the Trossacks, over the Lakes and up 
the Clyde to Glasgow. 

At 9 A.M., the jolly driver, clad in a red coat with brass buttons, 
mounted his box, and away we went foiu' inside and fom-teen of us 
outside. Oiu- speed was nine miles an hour, almost too rapid for 
one fully to lake in the romance and beauty of this enchanted land, 
Holding his reins in one hand and the "Lady of the Lake" in the 
other, the driver recited the description of each notable locality. 
The odorous air was scented with violet and eglantine; the hazel, 
hawthorn and "the primrose pale" fringed our winding way. At 
Coilantogle Ford we were told of the combat between Fitz James 
and Roderick Dhu. Then came Vennachar and " the wide and level 
green," where naught could "hide a bonnet or a spear"; and further 
on we saw the rock where the warrior's challenge, ' ' Come one, come 
all!" was flung in the face of Clan Alpine's braves. Now appeared 
the bright, breezeless waters of Loch Achray, with Benledi's purple 
peakbej-ond, and soon Loch Katrine's sequestered loveliness burst on 
om- view. 'The lark and thrush and blackbird answer still from bush 
and brake, as when Ellon skimmed the lake in other days. A steamer 
took us ten miles to the district of the MacGregors, through which I 
passed on foot, five miles to Loch Lomond. The goats pastured on 
the slope of Benvenue, the eagle soared above its summit, the heron 
stalked among the reeds. There was a rugged look, a loneliness 
and pensive hue to the scenery about the.haunts of Rob Roy and his 
clan. The hut was pointed out where Helen, his wife, was born. 
At Inversnaid I gave a half hour to a visit among the wild solitudes 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



in which Wordsworth has laid the scenes of his "Highland Girl." 
The "glen of sorrow," where 300 were slain by the MacGregors, 
and 80 youths also who were attracted thitlier by curiosity ; Inch 
Cruin, a former retreat for lunatics; Lennox, Butturich and Balloch 
castles, were seen from the steamer's deck as we passed over tlie 
shadow}' waters of this "Pride of the Highland Lakes." 

The dusky shadows clothed Dumbarton's lofty towers as I passed 
them. They stand 560 feet above the Clyde and recall the hero Wal- 
lace once imprisoned there, whose huge sword is still shown. The 
evening lamps were lighted ere we reached populous Glasgow, and 
their cheerful glow in many a mansion or castle along the river, the 
excursion boats and other gay craft about us and the instrumental 
music on board our steamer contributed to make that midsummei. 
night one that can never fade from memory. 

GLASGOW AND THE BURNS DISTRICT. 

Tourists find this busy metropolis a centre from which tours are 
planned in every direction. Its stirring industries will interest the 
business man; its University and museum, the scholar; the annals 
of thirteen centuries connected with the Cathedral, the antiquary. 
Glasgow, too, is intellectuall}' an opulent centre. It has been the 
birthplace or home of many eminent men, among whom are remem- 
bered Adam Smith, Thomas Reid, Thomas Campbell, Sir Colin 
Campbell, Sir John Moore, Chalmers, Balfour and Wardlaw. 

Changes are noticed year by year in civic life here as on the Con- 
tinent. For instance, in the vehicles. The "noddies" of Glasgow, 
like the "minbus"of Edinboro, each- a one-horse vehicle for four, 
are supplanted by the tram-cars. Hotel life since 1855 has taken on 
changes in this city of near half a million. Architectural and other 
improvements are seen, as in the new Universitj', the Necropolis and 
West End Park, on the banks of the Kelvin, environed by elegant 
residences. During his ministry in Glasgow, Dr. Chalmers delighted 
to get away, he said, from the heavy air of the smoky city, and spend 
much of his time in the suburbs. Some of those wonderful astro- 
nomical discourses were written " in a small pocket-book with bor- 
rowed pen and ink, in strange apartments, where he was liable every 
moment to interruption." Dr. Wardlaw gives a graphic description 
of the effect of those pulpit efforts at Glasgow in the winter of 1818. 
His Thursday forenoon lectures "crammed Trou Church with fif- 
teen or sixteen hundred hearers. His soul seemed in every utter- 
ance. It was thrilling, overwhelming." Students deserted their 
classes at the University, and business men their shops, to be present. 
The common people forgot their dislike of a "paper minister," as 
one who used notes was called. A Fifeshire dame was asked how 
she, who hated reading, could be so fond of the Glasgow preacher. 
With a shake of the head, she said: " Nae doubt; but its fell readin 
ihovgh" (Fell, keen, powerful). Dr. Hanna says that once in an open 
air service, Chalmers' sheets blew away, and great efforts were made 
by the people to find them. He assured them that, being written in 
short-hand, they could be used by nobody else. A Glasgow tramp 
once called at his study, when Chalmers was in the thick of morning 
thought. The intruder pretended to be in great distress of mind as 
to the grounds of Christianity, and particularly as to the statement 
that Jtelchisedek had neither father nor mother. He seemed to re- 
ceive gi-eat light and comfort as the patient preacher minutely cleared 
up the matter. Then the beggar added that he was needing money, 
and asked Dr. Chalmers to help him that way. The trick aroused 
the wrath of the minister like a tornado. He drove the rogue into 
the street, exclaiming, "Not a penny! not a penny! It's too bad, 
too bad. And to haul in your hypocrisy upon the shoulders of Mel- 
chisedek!" Seven miles out of Glasgow are the ruins of Cruickston 
Castle, where Mar}' and Darnley spent their honeymoon. 

Paisley stands on the site of a Roman camp, and has an Abbey, 
founded 1163, whose mouldering crypts contain the dust of two 
Scottish queens. Prof. Wilson, "Christopher North," and his 
brother the naturalist; Tannahill. the lyric poet; Motherwell, and 
other literary celebrities, were born here. I passed by the waters that 
sucked out the sweet life of that weaver poet who, when only 35, 
burned his poems, and, like Chatterton, sought refuge in suicide. It 
was interesting to notice among the grocers that the American custom 
prevailed of coaxing people with presents. Granulated sugar was 
marked threepence. Inkstands and other glassware were given away. 



, Near Irvine I saw the lofty turrets of Eglinton Castle, where the 
famous tournament came off in 1839 in which Louis Napoleon par- 
ticipated, and at Kilwinning, of freemasonry fame, the ruined abbey, 
a tine specimen of the first pointed style. 

A shower had just passed, and the bright afternoon sunshine spread 
a mantle of beauty over grove and meadow as our carriage rolled 
away from the railway at Ayr towards the Bridge of Doon, Allo- 
way Kirk and the birthplace of Robert Burns. The fir, the larcli, 
the beach, and the willow by the roadside dripped with the spark- 
ling rain drops, and the sweetness of new-mown hay was in the air. 
Not, indeed, as fast as Tam O'Shanter urged his gray mare Meg in 
his flight from Cuttysark and the witches, but quite fast enough for 
us did James, the driver, take us to the lowly cottage which has 
drawn so many eager visitors to it from all parts of the globe, as the 
autograph books testify. No admission fee is exacted, as at Strat- 
ford on Avon, but each is expected to purchase souvenirs, on which 
the profits are ample. - At the Monument we saw the Bible whieli 
Burns gave his Highland lassie, Mary Campbell. She was a servant 
at Castle Montgomerj'. After a long courtship the lovers were about 
to be united, when "Death's untimely frost" nipped the sweet flower 
which Burns so fondly cherished. Out of a heart surcharged with 
grief gushed those tender soliloquies of yearning love which have 
made his name immortal. Looking at that lover's gift you think, 
too, of that other maid, his future wife, with whom he had, during 
Mary's life, become too intimate ; their marriage and instant separation 
by her wrathful father; sorrow after sorrow, till in 1796 the poet dies, 
leaving four helpless little ones and "a wife who, whilst her hus- 
band's corpse was being carried down the street was delivered of a 
fifth child." This "patient Jean Armour" survived him 38 years, 
comfortably cared for and universally respected. Their last son, 
AVilliam, died 1873, in his 83d year. Principal Shairp says that 
Burns was "the supreme master in genuine song, the greatest lyric 
singer the world has loiown. But he justly adds that these deep 
sympathies and royal intellectual gifts were, dominated by fierce 
passions, hard to restrain by a will weak and irresolute. "Some 
claim honor for him not only as Scotland's greatest poet, but as one 
of the best men she has produced. Those who thus^iy to canonize 
Burns are no true friends to his memory." This checkered life has 
given to the haunts along "the Winding Ayr" a fascinating interest 
to all lovers of Scottish song. So is it everywhere in this wild 
but beautiful land. Indeed, the spell of the Caledonian muse is al- 
most universal. Allan Cunningham says that it is felt wherever 
British feet have led, from the snows of Siberia to the sands of 
Egypt, on the shores of the Ganges, the Ulissus, and the Amazon. 
Songs followed the bride to her chamber, the dead to their grave; 
the sailor to sea, the soldier to war. The rich, he says, sung in the 
parlor, the menial in the hut; the shepterd on the hillside, and the 
maid milking her ewes. The weaver sung moving his shuttle, the 
mason squaring the stone, the smith at his forge, the reaper in har- 
vest, the rower at his oar, the fisher dropping his net, and the miller 
as the golden meal gushed warm from the mill. 

The rise of elegiac verse, of heroic and other forms of poetry, and 
the relation of each to the varied scenery of Highland and Lowland, 
form an inviting theme. The poems of Ossian, the blind old Homer 
of Celtic song, left impressions on my boyhood fancy tender yet 
melancholy, romantic but luild, like many of the pictures of Dore. 
When I came to wander on foot through a portion of the Highland 
district, over barren heaths, along caverned depths, mid echoes and 
wailings of wind or wave, it was easy to see, as Blair and Beattie have 
taught us to find, the peculiar elements of their shadowy mystery, 
the wild ruggedness and warlike terror. How much James Mac- 
pherson interpolated is a question. Whether, indeed, they were or 
were not literary forgeries, like those of Chatterton at Bristol, is now 
of little moment. Forty years ago portions of the Ossianic transla- 
tions were my reading lessons in the " American First Class Book," 
and left their undying impression on thought and imagination. The 
teacher, as well as the book, was "first class," and the recital of the 
lines was a process of engraving as with a diamond's point; an ar- 
gument, by the way, for the superiority of English classics, in their 
formative infiuence on youthful taste, over much of the ephemeral 
literature of this telegraphic age. That Shakespeare, Milton, Pope. 
Addison, Sterne. Jeffrey, Wilson and Scott were my early guides I 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



owe to Boston schools in general and to Rev. .John Pierpont in 
particular. 

STAFFA AND lONA. 

From Glasgow by steamer to Oban is a day's trip. Another day 
gives you a glance of the Hebrides, and an opportunity to spend two 
iKJurs on these islands, amid scenes of sui-passing interest. No part 
of almost six months' absence is remembered with more satisfying 
pleasure. Yet few .American tourists turn aside from the beaten 
track to visit these quiet isles. Their summer is too short, and the 
Continent calls louder. 

It was not till after seeing lona that 1 read the monograph of the 
Duke of Argyll. This is a prose poem, and paints a picture of Co- 
lumba's age, when Justinian and Belisarius lived, and races on the 
march, like waves on the beach, swept over the face of Europe, and 
darkness rested on the ancient centtes of art, of science, and of law ; 
when what is now England had hardly ceased to be a Roman colony, 
harassed, indeed, by the ruthless incursions of a pagan race, but 
yielding not to Saxon sway till after Columba's death ; an age when 
the battles of orthodoxy won by Athanasius, Ambrose, and Augus- 
tme had given form to that discipline and belief which was finally 
accepted bj' Latin and Teutonic people, and when St. Benedict had 
begun to exert a moulding influence on early monasticism. Having 
thus grouped the salient historic features of Columba's age, His 
Grace outlines the physical features of that I'ocky islet which 
received the Celtic saint A.D. 563, and soon became in sacred learn- 
ing "the light of the western world"; from which the abbot and his 
monks went forth on missionary journeys among the heathen Picts, 
and to which chieftains came to be blessed, the red-handed men of 
l)lood to be pardoned, and kings to be ordained. Hither was brought 
in shrouded galleys the dust of the titled and the crowned of earth, 
to rest on "Columba's happy isle." Landing at "the Bay of Mar- 
tyrs," the funeral pageant was marshalled near a green knoll, still 
pointed out and known in the native tongue as the Mound of Bur- 
den. Here the bier rested and the ceremonial was arranged. Then 
the wailing coronach echoed along the Street of the Dead, as the 
clansmen of the chief or the vassals of the lord took up the corpse 
and bore it to its burial. For three centuries after Columba's death 
the sacred isle was frequently ravaged by the wild Northmen. 
These savage pirates demolished chuix-h and mona.stery, and mxir- 
dcred the monks without mercy. From the 13th to the 16th cen- 
tury, lona, or Hy, or Icolmkill, as it is also called, was the seat of a 
Romish nunnerj', finally broken up by the Scotch Parliament in 1560. 

The day of our visit was one of dreamy, halcyon quiet, and the 
broad Atlantic stretched westward before our gaze like a smooth 
tioor of shining sapphire, bordered northward by the larger Heb- 
ridean isles, and southward by the Torranan Rocks, "in barren 
grandeur piled." Our steamer came to anchor, and a red life-boat 
put us ashore first at Staffa. The stillness of the noonday hour 
was only broken by the quiet throb of the tide or the querulous cry 
of the giill, as if to rebuke our intrusion. Scott, in his "Lord of the 
Isles," tells of this sequestered spot, where "the cormorant has 
found, and the shy seal, a quiet home" ; where God has built himself 
a minster, as if "to shame the temples decked by skill of earthly 
architect," and where, in ebb and swell, the solemn sea 

"From the high vault an answer draws, 
In varied tone, prolonged and high, 
That mocks the organ's melody. " 

A score of us climbed up the moist and slippery rocks and walked 
into Fingal's Cave. It is about 33 feet broad, 66 feet high, and 337 
feet deep. Neither pen nor pencil can do justice to the view pre- 
sented, still less to the overpowering sensations awakened, as, in 
that vast cathedral, we reverently paused and lifted that ancient 
melody which has no equal, " Old Hundred," to the words, "Praise 
God, from whom all blessings flow!" Tuneful voices united in the 
strain, which swelled and reverberated through the lofty arches and 
dim recesses with a depth and mellowness, a majesty and grandeur 
indescribable! It was a fit anthem and fitly rendered. The Gauls 
called this the musical cave. Here in olden time may have been 
heard the hymn of the Druids; the prayer of monk or nun, "lona's 
saints"; the shout of the Roman, or the cry of the sea pirates, echo- 
ing through the pillared vestibule. The rude peasant still hears the 



voice of Fingal's ghost in the sob of the wind and the roar of the 
wave. The weather was exceptionally favorable for our visit. For 
the first time in the season had the distant "Paps of Jura," 3,000 feel 
high, appeared in the southern horizon. In its calm beauty the day 
was very like the 19th of August, 1847, when Her Majesty and the 
princes entered the cave in a royal barge. Rarely is this possible. 
Excursion steamers frequently are obliged to pass by without effecl 
ing a landing. From Fingal's Cave our guide took us across Ihe 
island to enjoy the grand prospect from the highest cliffs, and to 
examine the geological curiosities. The island is tunnelled by numer 





ous caves. AVe saw the "Wishing Chair," had a glimp.se of the 
Cormorant's Cave, which is broader than Fingal's and about the 
same depth ; of Clamshell Cave, with singular cui'ved basaltic pillars, 
and Boat Cave, the roof of which is 113 feet high, the height of an 
average church spire. As on the lofty chalk cliffs of the Isle of 
Wight, I lay down and peered over the dizzy edge, watching the 
wash of the waves and tjie graceful gyrations of the white-winged 
petrel. The shrill whistle of the boatswain interrupted our medita- 
tions. The red barge took us to the steamer, and in half an hour we 
came to anchor off Iona, and were again rowed ashore. The oflicial 
guide, furnished by the proprietor, the Duke of Argjdl, meets you 
at the rude pier. He has a uniform of blue flannel. . He sees to it 
that the ruins are "kept in repair"! Although the population is but 
360, there are two Protestant denominations, Free and Established. 
Both are firmly established. You will also find a good show of chil- 
dren. These juvenile saints issue from the forty huts that line the 
single " Straide" (street), and hasten, with Hcbridean instinct, to 
prey—Tpref upon the pilgrim's wallet. Offer them a tup'euce. Will 
they not give you a stone? Yes, load you with dolomite or felspar, 
or curious shells or gi-ay lichens. The sonnets of Wordsworth tell 
of these youthful traders in 

"wave- worn pebbles, pleading on the shore 
Where once came monk and nun with gentle stir. 
Blessings to give, news ask, or suit prefer." 

Lately, His Grace has only allowed these bare-legged lonians to pay 
their devotions — to your purse — at a designated place, the straight 
and narrow way through which you must pass to the Nunnery. 
Here they range themselves, like hungry hackmen, behind a railing. 
Little chubby hands or cracked saucers hold out to you treasures 
gleaned from cliff or beach. Of one sweet-faced child, whose timid 
whisper was almost lost in the more urgent plea of her companions, 
I bought a handful of shells and green .stones that promise the pos- 
sesso'r exemption from disease and harm. 

Now you pass into the Nunnery, and sit on the stone seat<3 where 
" holy virgins" prayed six hundred j^ears ago, and where many a 
Hic .TACET, with its recorded tribute, lies. 

Of the 360 crosses imposed upon this long-suffering isle, the Synod 



10 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



of Argyle, at the time of the Reformation, toolc 60, and deposited 
them in — the sea. Many others liave fallen imder the blows of icon- 
oclasts, or those of inquisitive and acquisitive tourists. St. Martin's 
Cross is a beautiful . specimen of these graceful memorials, with 
Runic carvings in high relief. Passing through the Street of the 
Dead to the burial ground, thence to the Cathedral, looking at the 
graves of forty kings of Scotland, including Duncan and his mur- 
derer Macbeth, and the crumbling relics of thirteen centuries, you 
are ready to believe, with a dean who visited lona in 1.594, that this 
"is the maist honorable and ancient place in Scotland, as in thair 
dayes we reid." The familiar words of Dr. Johnson, in his Tour 
to the Hebrides, also occur to memorj'.* 

Sentimentality aside, one cannot stand on the Abbot's mound and 
repeat the prophecy of Columba without being impressed with its 
literal fulfilment. On the last day of his life, the gray-haired saint, 
nearly foul-score and very infirm, was assisted to reach this rocky 
eminence which overlooked his long-adopted home. Raising Ms 
hands he spoke these words: " Ilwk- loco, quamlibet angusto et mli 
nan tantum Scotorum Reges cum populii, sed etiam barharum et ex- 
ieranim gentium regnatores, cum plebibus sibi s^ibjeciis, grandem et non 
mediocrem conferrent lionorem: a Sanctis giioque etiam aliojrum ecelesi- 
arum non mediocris mneratio conferetur." f 

The objects along the route are noted in guide-books; castles with 
tragic associations; bays where sea fights took place; picturesque 
islands, like the "Dutchman's Cap," very like a huge black hat with 
broad rim; frowning headlands with light-houses; wild ravines and 
leaping cascades. Christopher North exclaimed: 

"Is not the .scene magnificent ? 
Beauty nowhere owes to ocean 
A lovelier haunt than this." 

Most interesting of all was Suuepc5l House, overlooking the Atlantic, 
wliere the poet Campbell lived when tutor. There he wrote his 
"Exile of Erin," and much of his "Pleasures of Hope." The 
scenery, he says, "fed the romance of my fancy." I went ashore at 
Tobermory, the capital of Mull, a charming spot, full of S3'lvan 
beauty and walled in by towering mountains. Oban, too, was a 
restful retreat for two nights, a natural amphitheatre with a pleasant 
modern village of stone houses in a single street along the bay. The 
Gaelic is still heard on every hand. In one of the shops I tested 
some excellent corned beef canned in Chicago. 

The long summer twilight was noticeable when the hour of 10 p.ir. 
was tolled from the church tower; I rested on my oar and let my 
boat drift with the tide as I read in a pocket Bible of the smallest 
type. Music from a band on shore was wafted over the waters and 
died away amid the distant hills. Here, as everywhere in Europe, 
"Grandfather's Clock" was made to do service, the popularity of 
which is an unexplained mystery. 



* " We were now treading that illustrious island which was once 
the luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and 
roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowle(5ge and the bless- 
ings of religion. To abstract the mind from all local emotions 
would be impossible if it were endeavored, and would be-foolish if 
it were possible. "Whatever withdraws- us from the po-v\'er of .our 
senses, whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future pVedom 
inate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. 
Far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy as,may 
conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has 
been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. 'That man is little to 
be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plains of 
Marathon, or whoso piety would not grow warmer among the ruins 
of lona!" The gushing Boswell says: "Had our tour produced 
nothing else but this sublime passage," the world must liave acknowl- 
edged that it was not made in vain [the tour, not the world]. The 
present respectable President of the Royal Society was so much 
struck on reading it, that he clasped his hands together and remained 
for some time in an attitude of silent admiration." A cruel critic 
adds that nothing in American literature can parallel this famous 
passage, except Mark Twain's outburst of feeling at the grave of one 
of his blood-relations, the tomb of Adam! 

t "Unto this place, albeit so small and poor, great homage shall 
yet be paid, not only by the Scottish Kings and people, but by the 
rulers of barbarous and distant nations, with their people also. In 
great veneration, too, shall it be held by the holy men of other 
churches." 



CHAPTER III. 

EITGLAI^D A.XD WALES. 

l,rVEKPOOU 

The Sabbath chimes of Birkenhead Priory were ringing out a 
Sabbath welcome the first time we entered the port of Liverpool. 
It was such a day as George Herbert has described, "most calm, 
most bright, " and full of auspicious auguries, which have been fully 
realized during two summers in England. The -w-ild thyme on the 
hillsides made the air sweet, and the bosky combs beneath, clothed in 
rich verdure, reflected the rare beauty of the heavens. Some one 
has compared the scenery of England with that of Italy, and while 
admitting that there is an element of soberness, says that it is "the 
soberness of a Doric temple, witB its decorated frieze and intervals 
of rich, exquisite sculpture," adorning a beautiful shrine, the home 
of our ancestral virtue. 

The memories of Liverpool are tho.se of princely English hospital- 
ity, as hearty as it -n'as abundant, and as graceful as it was generous. 
Nowhere in the world is domestic comfort so reduced to a S3'stem as 
in England. The guest is made to feel at home, not only by the un- 
affected cordiality of his host, but by the felicitous appointments of 
the dwelling itself, and the air of repose that broods over all. With 
wealth and elegance there is a sense of peaceful seclusion, cosey 
quietude. Things are for use rather than for display. Americans 
often lavish money in the embellishments of a pretentious yet useless 
luxury. One almost shivers amid the sjilendors of some silent, sun. 
less parlors, crowded with all kinds of costlj- and curious bric-a-brac, 
works of art and quaint conceits. These rooms are lighted by gas, 
and warmed b)- heat through a hole in the floor. From the front 
windows are seen long blocks of brick and brownstone, and from the 
rear the back yards of the next block. This is a fair picture of 
American cit}' life and its "modern improvements." But an English 
mansion embodies essentially difEerent ideas. There are class dis- 
tinctions and burdensome conventionalities which shape their society 
which we do well to ignore, but there is much we may with advan- 
tage nnitate in their home life and ideas of practical comfort, as will 
be seen further on. 

Brief glances were had of the public buildings of Liverpool, its 
docks and its churches. I heard one Sabbath, the then vigorous Dr. 
RaiHes. Birkenhead, Stoneleigh and the Necropolis, Kendal and 
tlie Lake district then invited our attention. 

The ruined castle in which Catherine Par-r was born, last wife of 
Henry VIII., was the first I had ever seen, and so it made impressions 
peculiarlj' novel and permanent. There, shrined in moss and iv}-, 
stood the actual realization of early thought and fancy, an ancient 
castle. Climbing the hill it crowns, I stretched mj'self on the green 
slopes where the cows were feeding and gave myself up to delicious 
reverie. The words of AVashington Irving had from boyhood voiced 
raj aspirations. He M'rites: "I longed to tread m the footsteps of 
antiquity, to loiter about the ruined castle, to meditate on the falling 
tower, to escape, in short, from the commonplace realities of the 
present, and lose myself among the shadowy grandeurs of the past. " 
Thus did I answer the query of Horace, " Qxiid terras alio calentes 
sole mutmmis patria ?" 

" Why change our country, for lands 
Warmed by another sun'/" 

LAKE -WINIIEKMEKE. 

An English " fly," a low one-horse vehicle, took me about Wind- 
ermere and along the Calgarth AVoods. "Merlin," a private pleasure 
boat on the lake, afforded other views of this Arcadia, the charms of 
which .are too familiar to be narrated. The prose of De Quincey 
and the verse of Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey are the best 
descriptions. Dove's Nest recalls Mrs. Hemans; as Rayrigg recalls 
Wilberforce; and Elleray, Wilson. Indeed, the whole region is as 
rich in its literary associations as it is full of the elements of delicate 
beauty. Not a little of the tender, almost feminine grace and idyllic 
sweetness of the poetry produced by the Lake School is to be traced 
to the genial influence of these serene surroundings. The medita- 
tive Wordsworth loved the mountains and woody solitudes about 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN ElIROPE. 



11 



Grassmere, aud speak)^ ol' Hiom ;is l)olovi'(l mmpauions with whom 
lie daily talked. 

UP ANU DOWN YORKWUlih;. 

Leaving the maiu line at SkiptOil, I went to the famous waters of 
HaiTowgate; The afternoon happened to be tinc; Hill and dell 
were golden with flowery gioiy. Meadow and stream laughed in 
the rare sunshine that interspaced hours of sullen gloom. Yet true 
it is that Nature gives to us only what we bring to her. A troubled 
lieart gets no joy from the serenest sky, and a prosy sdul gets no 
poetry from the exquisite scenery. When Wordsworth and his de- 
voted sister walked as they were wont, dajr by day around Grassmere, 
they once came, she writes, upon long beds of daffodils, resting their 
heads on mossy stones as on a pillow, while others "tossed and 
reeled and danced, and seemed as if they verily laughed with the 
wmd, they looked so gay and glowing." Contrast this with De 
Quincey's experience, to whom the sound of the summer breeze at 
noon was "the saddest souud" in the world, as if it came from 
graveyards, and this because of early associations of sorrow with a 
summer noon. Training, as well as natural tastes, has much to do 
with the enjoyment of sceneiy. When a certain party of tourists 
came in sight of that emerald gem, Lake Grassmere, an American 
stolidly remarked, "Fine pond, that!" A sawmill would have 
elicited about the same amount of responsiveness. Another party, 
returning from Italy through Switzerland, were asked in Paris their 
opinion of the Alps. " Alps?" says one, scratching his head, "Alps ? 
seems to me we did go over over some rising r/roimd." He may have 
lieen an Englishman. 

But here wo are at IIarrowgate, Harrow-gate, i.e., " the road to 
the soldier's hill," as it was called some seven hundred years ago. 
Tlus broad 200-acre lot, bordered with forest trees and the villas of 
the gentry, cut by walks and drives, and enclosing John's Well, is 
called the Stray or common. What a soft drowsy haze rests on the 
picture this midsummer afternoon, and how it seems like Saratoga, 
over the sea, in the bu.sy idleness, the dokefar nieiite sort of life you 
see about you. Those nurses and babies are making the most of this 
exception to the summer days of '79, as is that blind musician, who 
on the greensward is discoursing strains of old-time melodies like 
"Portuguese Hymn." Nobody says "keep off the grass," so let us 
stroll down to the Harrowgate Well and taste of the curative spring. 
Whew! what an odor; no wonder that some one wrote on the wall 
tliat Satan while flj'ing over the Harrowgate Well "was charmed 
with the heat aud the smeK .'" He said that he knew he was near to 
— his usual residence. A taste is all one cares to take. Drop into the 
sulphurous liquid a sixpence. It turns black. Never mmd, leave it 
for the servant. He will brighten it. He is as little affected by 
sulphuretted hydrogen as a plumber is with sewer gas. The au 
thor of ' A Season at Harrowgate" says that the whole kingdom 
affords no better scene for a caricature than is beheld here at drink 
ing hours. 

" All ages and sexes, all ranks and degree. 
All forms and all sizes distorted you see. 
Some grinning, some splutt'ring, some pulling wry faces. 
In short 'tis a mart for all sorts of grimaces. 
But all you conceive, of age, infancy, youth. 
In contortion and whim must fall short of the truth. 
One screws up his lips, like the mouth of a purse. 
While his neighbor's fierce grin gives threat of a curse; 
And a third, gasping, begs, with his eyes turned to Heaven, 
That his stomach will keep what so lately was given; 
But feeling the rebel will spurn at his prayer. 
Throws the re.st of his bumper away in despair. " 

Not stopping at the saline and iron springs, let us turn to pleasanter 
objects like Bolton Abbey, built in the twelfth century as a mother's 
memorial of her only son, drowned near by; Kirkstall Abbey, an- 
other exquisite ruin, and, above all,. KjJaresboko, where that 
strange character, Eugene Aram, the scholar, dwelt from 1734 to 
1745. whose life mirrors at once the loves of Abelard and the dark 
mysteries with which Hamlet and Paust once grappled. Familiar 
with the ballad of Hood and the romance of Bulwer, you will want 
to give at least two hours to this place. Ascending the lofty lime- 
stone ridge on which this unique old town is built, you see the 
church in which the murderers of Becket hid, 1170, also the crumb 
ling walls of the castle, which date back to the- Norman Conquest. 



and which recall the tragic fate of Richard It. and other bloody 
memories. There is a deep dungeon of hewn stone and a secret 
cell, with indentations as if from the shackles and manacles of pris 
oners. The chapel cut out of the solid rock, where Saint Kobcrt 
worshipped in the thirteenth ceiiiuty, is another relic of mediaeval 
times. His cave is further down the Nidd. Robbers have since 
dwelt there. This is the place Avlicrc Diiuicl Clark was imirdcrcd liy 
Eugene Ar:mi. A luilf Jiours walk Icails us to it along a shady ri\er 
bank. " 'Tis (he prime of summer time,' aud the bounding boys let 
out of school are shouting now, as when that melancholy man, af 
terwards the usher of Lynn, described b}' Hood, confessed to a little 
urchin his crime in the form of a dream. Those are Yorkshire 
boys. Their speech is hard to understand. A gate is swung open 
by one of them to let us pass, and he says, "'Please scramble aha 
penny." 

By a winding path a hired guide leads us to the cave, enters, lights 
a candle, and tells the story of that wintry midnight hour when Clark 
within this dark cavern was struck down by the pickaxe of the frenzied 
man whose jealousy, long nursed, had turned 1o madness. The in 
eidents of that fateful February day are given with almost painful 
minuteness by a relative of one who lived near by at the time and 
knew the facts. It is not mere morbid curiosit}' that invests the 
place with interest, as at Newgate and the Hulks, but, as Lord 
Lytton has suggested, the crime of this cultured scholar is so strange- 
ly episodical and apart from the rest of his career, that it is a prob- 
lem of philosophy to explain it, as mucli as the acts of lago, Othello, 
Macbeth, or Richard. His trial has been considered the most re- 
markable in the history of English courts. That of Professor Web- 
ster, of Harvard University, for the murder of an associate professor, 
whose body he burned, November, 1849, has some features in com 
mon. 

Northward, a few miles, is Fountain's Abbey, embowered in 
groves of ilex, cypress and oak, where Robin Hood had his meeting 
with the ' ' curtail fryer." JIarston Moor is passed six miles eastward 
from Knaresboro. Here Cromwell conquered Charles and took a 
hundred flags, which the Parliamentary soldiers tore to ribbons aud 
bound as trophii^s round their arms. That bloody victory helped to 
settle the great struggle of the seventeenth century between Protes- 
tant liberty on the one hand, and on the other absolutism and the 
Papac}'. Chaleaulirland has truly observed, "There was a certain 
invincibility in Cromwell's genius like the new ideas of which he 
was the champion. His actions ha.l all the rapidity and efEect of 
lightning." "The troops imder his command," says D'Aubigne, 
"thought themselves sure of victory, and, in fact, he never lost a 
battle." 

THE CITY OF YORK. 

York we reach at evening, a grand old city. Here, it has been 
claimed, one Roman emperor was born, and here two others died — 
Severus and Constantius. AVc need not credit the monkish chroni- 
cler, GeofEry, who aftirms that a grandson of J<;neas founded York 
B.C. 983, while Hector reigned in Troy, and Eh was High Priest in 
Judea, any more than we do the statenieut of Sir Thomas Elliot that 
Chester was founded 240 years after the flood 1 Either place, how- 
ever, IS old enough for the mustiest antiquary. My stay here was 
made particularly agreeable by the hospitalities enjoyed at the home 
of Prof T An open carriage was brought to the door after lunch, 
and a long ride with a scholarly companion gave me a better idea of 
York than any printed description ever had Walks about town the 
next morning completed the visit. Mr George Hope, author of the 
pamphlet on Castlegate Stone,. and Antiquities of St. Mary's, showed 
me special attentions. The present occupant of King James' for- 
mer mansion courteously showed me through the apartments, and 
placed me in a chair once used by Queen Elizabeth. 

A visit to the ruined Abbey, the Maltangular Tower, and the 
various Bars or city gates, scarred by battle and crumbling with age. 
and a glance at some of the glories of the famous Minster — "the 
grandest building in Great Britain," as Rev. Dr. Hoppin of New 
Haven says— these were all the time allowed. It is not, indeed, the 
length of one's stay, but rather the degree of preparedness to see, 
which determines the real satisfaction enjoyed. Forty miles' ride 
took me to Driffield, an old market town, and an agricultural centre. 
Yorkshire is called the " Empire State of England, the Queen of En- 



12 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



glisli counties, in size, population, richness, rural beauty and his- 
torical antiquities." One little hamlet, ten miles distant, was my 
Mecca this time, the town of Thwing. It was sought with the zeal 
of an, antiquary simply, inasmuch as a volume bearing this humble 
monosyllable is in preparation by a kinsman. Stopping at the 
rectory, my liorse and driver were housed, for it was raining hard, 
nnd I strolled out for a walk to the venerable church and graveyard. 
At the College of Arms I had learned about Sir Robert de Thwing, 
Knight, Lord of Kilton Castle, 1237, and his descendants who were en- 
gaged with Edward I. in the wars with Scotland. Here, over the altar, 
is a memorial window bearing the names of Archbishop Lamplough 
and Baron de Thwing. Mural tablets record other names; the stoue 
figure of a priest holding a sacramental cup lies in the chancel, and 
there is a large baptismal font, which is supposed to be seven hundred 
years old. The carvings of the stone porch are very elaborate, and 
heraldic insignia embellish the walls. The living is £900 a year. 
The population of Thwing is but 365, "and no resident has been 
known for years bearing this family name. The wolds, high open 
tracts, surround the village, and the fields show evidences of high 
cultivation. The cottages of the farm laborers are one storj', stone, 
thatched, or covered with earthen tiles. One misses the neat 
white country houses everywhere seen in New England, owned 
by the farmers who are proprietors of tlie soil they till, and have, 
therefore, every motive to thrift, industry, and fealtj- to government. 
Never in any form can Communism bo tolerated in a land where 
there are many small properties, guarantees of peace and loyalty. 

Hull is a large and pro.sperous town, " where Humber pours her 
I'ich commercial stream," as Cowper wrote. In maritime importance 
it is only surpassed by London and Liverpool. The agricultural, 
mining and mamifacturing products of the north find easy transpor- 
tation to the Baltic and other ports of Europe. Its history the past 
seven centuries is rich in materials. Here Wilberforce was born, 
and Andrew Marvell dwelt, ' ' the British Aristides. " Statues of these 
and other eminent scholars and statesmen embellish the place. By 
the coiu-tesy of Mr. 6. F. Bristow, an honored merchant of Hull, I 
learned something of the religious and philanthropic work going on 
liere. On the Sabbath I heard the widely-known Presbyterian 
preacher. Rev. Dr. W. P. Mackay, a man of scholarship, yet in cer- 
tain eccentricities of style somewhat like Dr. Talmage. His ser- 
mons, however, are marked by satire rather than humor, by pun 
gency rather than wit, by rugged Saxon strength ratlier than by 
.showy ornament. He is, moreover, confined in a high pulpit box. 
which fetters his movements. He is of medium size, of middle ago. 
and vigorous in voice and action. Like Joseph Cook, he made bis 
prelude as long as his sermon. Both were on the same theme, Luke 
18.9, " Trusted in themselves and despised others. " With colloquial 
freedom he contrasted the characters of publican and pharisee. It 
is an age, he said, of superciliousness and haughty pride. How 
common yet how disgusting to see one who has a finer bonnet or a 
better furnished head or a few more pounds in his purse than his 
neighbor, to look down upon him with disdain. Better pay your 
debts with black hands than steal with white ones. " O, go on to 
the more comfortable truths of the gospel," you say. No, we won't 
hurry. Let us .see whom the cap may fit. Try it on. " I thank thee 

that I " Not a long speech, but aljout as many I's as you have 

fingers on your hands. How he draws out the awful disqualifications 
of his neighbors, and sticks to his own goodness. " Or even as this 
publican. Just think of that fellow who presumes to stand near me ! 
/fast twice in the week." The old dyspeptic perhaps ate too much; 
as much in those five days as the other in seven. " Plain preach- 
ing?" Yes, but having accepted the position of an ambassador of 
Christ, I do not hesitate to expound his teachings. A friend of mine 
in the North of Scotland urged his hearers to give God tithes of all 
they received. As he walked home from church he overheard one 
lady say to another, " Isn't it terrible?" " Ah, but didn't he always 
have Scripture for it?" "Yes, that's the worst of it!" 

Thus did the preacher grapple with the subject and verse by verse 
unfold the parable, the key-note of which he made to be in the single 
clause fir.st quoted. Sweeping as were some of his statements, he 
guarded vital points in the discussion, as when he disclaimed sympa- 
thy with those who sought to level all distinctions. It was not becom- 
ing, he said, for the master to eat in the kitchen and the servant in 



the breakfast-room, but, on the other hand, the master should not 
look down on them as if they occupied an intermediate position 
between a monkey and a man. 

In the Congregational church Rev. James Wishart, M.A., of 
Liverpool, preached a thoughtful discourse, the substance of which 
afterward appeared in the HondUtic Monthly of New York, October, 
1879. 

Two nights were spent in Manchester. Glimpses of Leeds, Bir 
mingham and other important centres had to suffice. One of the 
proprietors of the Leeds Mercury kindly pointed me to objects of in- 
terest and put some rare reading matter, new and old, in my hands. 
When the Romans wrought here, they appreciated the beds of claj' 
and limestone. When Henry VIII. ruled, his hi.storian wrote of 
Leeds, " The town standeth most by clothing," English wool being 
the finest in the world and praised by .lulius Csesar. The elegant 
Town Hall, the Y. M. C. A. building and various church edifices 
interested me. Where St. Peter's now stands were found .sculptured 
stones, believed to have been cut by old fire-worshipper.s, as the 
hieroglyphs illustrate Oriental ideas of astronomy. But in the 
tlirob and rush of these modern industries these memorials are of 
little account with most of men. 

THE UNIVEKSITIES. 

The cities of Cambridge and Oxford are not unlike in their gen- 
eral appearance. Both lie level, surrounded by meadows. The one 
is encircled by the Cam, the other by the Cherwell and Isis. Both 
have their exquisite parks and gardens, shady river banks, and velvet 
lawns; their venerable buildings, forming "a monumental history 
of England, exhibiting all its great epochs" in the architecture itself; 
and in both we meet the same gowned scholars and academic digni- 
taries. Cambridge has been called "a nest of singing birds," having 
sent out many poets, from Edmund Spencer, 1.599, down to Alfred 
Tenn.yson, including Dryden, Milton, Byron, Gray, Coleridge, and 
Wordsworth. Cambridge leads in mathematics, and Oxford in the 
classics. Poetry and science reign in the one; law, logic, and pol- 
itics in the other. As you alight from the railway carriage at Oxford 
you think of the saying, "Change here for Rome I" Let us first look 
at this old, aristocratic centre, of which Ralph Aggas wrote, 1578: 

" Ancient Oxford! noble nurse of skill! 
A citie seated riche in everye thinge, 
Girt with woodc and water." 

The solitary tower of the castle first meets j'our eye, where Alfred 
the Great held co\irt a thousand j'ears ago. You think of that De- 
cember snow-storm when King Stephen compelled the Empress 
Maude to flee from it on foot to Abington. St. Michael's tower 
recalls the martyr Cranmer, who there looked out and saw the burn- 
ing of Ridley and Latimer, Oct. 16, 1555. They did "light such a 
caudle, by God's grace, in England as shall never be put out." The 
door of the cell which confined the martyrs is still shown. On the 
morning of March 21, 1556, Cranmer was brought into St. Mary's to 
proclaim his adherance to Romanism, but boldly repudiated it, and 
was hm-ried thence to the stalce. Here now are preached the Bamp- 
ton Lectures, the Lenten and Universitj' sermons. 

Where )'ou fountain gushes, John Wycliffe used to preach in the 
open air. There is Bishop Heber's tree, shading the rooms once 
occupied by "gentle Reginald," known bj' his missionary hymn, 
" From Greenland's icy mountains"; further on, by Cherwell's banks, 
is " Addison's Walk," where the pious poet loved to wander, 

" Transported with the view, and lost 
In wonder, love, and praise." 

"Maudlen,"from the'Syriac, means "beauty," and is the Oxonian 
name for Magdalen College, founded in 1456. Among its alumni 
were Cardinal Wolsey, Lord Jeflreys, John Hampden, Gibbon, and 
Bishop Home. Near by is Merton, another of the 27 colleges of 
which Dr. Johnson wrote : 

' ' Who but must feel emotion as he contemplates at leisure the 
magnificence which here surrounds him, pi-essing the same soil, 
breathing the same air, admiring the same objects, which the Hook- 
ers, the Chillingworths, the Souths, and a host of learned and pious 
men have trodden, breathed and admired." 

By that window studied Professor Vives, the incomparable sweet- 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



ness of whose speech, according to Bishop Butler, led the bees to 
settle over his window, remaining there 130 years. When removed, 
an immense quantity of honey was taken. 

Here, too, toiled Richard Hooker, of whom Pope Clement VIII. 
said; " This man, indeed, deserves tlie name of author. His books 
will get reverence by age, for there are in them such seeds of eter- 
nity as will continue till the last lire shall devour all learning." 

But time fails us to tell of John Wesley, Whitetield, Dean Swift, 
South, Jeremy Taylor, Edward Young, Tom Hood, Shelley, Faber, 
Herbert, Lord Mansfield, Duke of Wellington, William Penn, Sir 
Matthew Hale, Gladstone, John Ruskin, and DeQuincey, and of 
others, dead and living, who have graced the records of this mem- 
orable seat of learning. 

Do not forget the Bodleian library, with its 400,000 volumes, rare 
MSS.'and curiosities, including Guy Fawkes' lantern; the Hall and 
Kitchen at Christ Church, with the ancient gridiron, more than 
four feet square, used centuries ago; and the jai'gost bell in Eng- 
land, Great Tom, 17,640 lbs., the door closer of O.xford, which at 
9.05 P.M. tolls 101 strokes, the original number of foundation stu- 
dents. Milton alludes to this "curfew sound with sullen roar," 
which has been heard four hundred years. Holman Hunt's picture, 
" Light of the World," at Keble Chapel is a masterpiece worth see- 
ing. It cost foO.OOO. 

A city physician, Dr. Godfrey, u.sed to say, "O.xford is a dread- 
fully healthy place!" This fact is certified by the ages of six per- 
sons, who died within three weeks, awhile ago, averaging over 90 
years, and by the reference of Chamberlayue 200 years ago, who 
speaks of Oxford as a resort for invalids. In short we may ask with 
Faber, 

" Were ever river-banks so fair? 
. Gardens so fit for nightingales as these? 
Was ever town so rich in court aud tower?" 

At Cambeidgb I visited nearly all of the seventeen colleges, aud 
was most interested in King's, with its magnificent chapel founded 
Ijy Henry VI., 1446, and in the new imposing structure, Fitzwilliam 
Museum. Queen's was the residence of Erasmus, and Trinity of 
Barrow, who had in an eminent degree the gift of continuance or 
"saint's perseverance." At one time, after preaching three full 
hours he was only brought to a conclusion by the organist, who 
opened on him a ftill musical broadside and so extinguished him. 
But times change. College life in the reign of Edward VI., 1547, is 
thus described; " Ryse betwixt four aud fyve; from fyve untill sixe 
of the clocke, common prayer with an exhortation of God's wordc; 
sixe unto ten, eyther private study or commune lectures. At ten 
dynner, where they be content with a penye pj'ece of biefe among 
fowre, havynge a few porage made of the brothe of tlie same biefe, 
wythe salte and otemel and notheng else. Teachynge or learnynge 
untill fyve , supper not much better than dynner, immedyately after 
the whyche reasonyuge in problemes or some other studye untill 
nine or tenne. Beynge without fyre thej' are fayne to walke or 
runne up and down halfe an houre to gette a heate on thire feete 
when they go to bed." There's monastic mortification for you! 

In the master's lodge of Sidney Sussex I saw the famous crayon 
portrait of Cromwell presented in 1765, a most striking face. On 
an oaken door of an attic in Christ's College is cut the name of 
Milton. Here lodged the great poet, toiling studiously, as he says 
"up and stirring in winter often ere the sound of any bell awoke 
men to labor or to devotion ; then with useful and generous labors 
preserving the body's health aud hardiness to render lightsome, 
clear and not lumpish obedience to the mind, to the cause of religion 
and our country's liberty, in sound bodies to stand aud cover their 
stations." Remembering that Milton's gray head came very near 
the headsman's axe for truth and liberty's sake, we may, as Pro- 
fessor Hoppin says, see in Milton himself the "true poem of a 
heroic life." The mulberry tree which he planted 200 years ago is 
still pointed out. 

A comparison between the moral and intellectual benefits of the 
English and American college systems would involve a discussion 
of the whole subject of state patronage, of ecclesiastic endowments, 
and indeed of the national life out of which each springs. ' America 
is young. Her people have no cloistral or aristocratic institutions, 
and are impatient of systems which reflect antiquated, medifcval 



ideas, and perpetuate the power of a churchly hierarchy or a social 
oligarchy. The early monastic schools of England were valuable 
only to a few, and to-day her great endowed schools, according to 
Howard Staunton, are theatres of athletic manners and training- 
places of the gallant English gentleman, but do "neither furnish 
the best moral training nor the best mental discipline. The best 
friends of these schools confess that they contain much that is pe- 
dantic, puerile, antiquated, obsolete, obstructive, and not a little that 
is barbarous, and, like other English institutions, they are apt to con- 
foiuid stolidit)' with solidity." This intelligent Englishman pleads 
for I he classics, but " with far more pith and plenitude than at pres- 
ent;" for science, but in its most exalted principles; for oratorical 
study and rhetorical training, and for a national university as an 
urgent need. Americans may do well, as the author of ' ' Old Eng- 
land " observes, to combine something of the system of fellowships, 
not as a "life of literary epicureanism," but "in the modified 
system of scholarships extending beyond the term of college course, " 
which tend to foster the pure love of study aside from the popular 
ends and rewards of scholarship. 

CHESTER AND NORTH WALES. 

If pressed for time, 3'ou can see both in one day. One night, at least, 
ought to be spent at one of the attractive watering places along the 
shore, under the shadow of the Welsh mountains — Llandudno, for 
example. There I found, at very moderate rates, accommodations 
at the Sherwood House, the sea-side home of the Y. M. C. A. of 
Manchester. A guinea will pay a week's board in this quiet, Chris- 
tian home. The guide-books give ample information as to the pic- 
turesque and historic suiToundings. The cavern is shown where 
the Romans worked in copper, when Christ was toiling at the bench 
in Nazareth. Their tools also have been fotind. Roberts, not long 
ago, saw a family who had spent their lives in one of these caves, 
and happily, too. The mother said that she had given birth to, and 
brought up thirteen children in that rocky retreat. But this " Queen 
of Welsh watering places" has rivals, glimpses of which you get 
passing along the coast by rail. A few words about "rare old 
Chester," a C[uaint picture book about which many volumes have 
been written, yet each tourist and scholar looks with his own 
eyes. The first thing that impressed me was the vast railway enter- 
prises centring here, and the magnificent building which is the cen- 
tral statio^i, 1160 feet front, from which go, or to which come, 21,500 
passengers daily. Polite official^ are in attendance. I asked one of 
them the hour at which I could go to Holyhead, and how best to sec 
Chester. He said that a carriage would take me about the town foi' 
five shillings, aud tram cars for tup'ence were nmuing to the Roman 
wall aud river Dee, encircling the town, from whence I could return 
on foot and .see each object at leisure. He wrote down on a leaf of 
his note-book a list of railway connections and hours, tore it out and 
put it in my hand, without a bit of that obsequiousness with which 
many genteel beggars proffer information to the stranger abroad. 
As the tender was leaving the pier at Liverpool, not long ago, an 
American author of some celebrity, it is said, remarked, as he raised 
his hat to the crowd on shore, ' ' Gentlemen, if there is auybody in 
yom' country to whom I've not given a shilling, now's the time to 
speak!" I am sure that Inspector Price would have resented the 
oiler of pay for his attentions. 

It was the noontide hour when I reached Grosvenor Bridge. A 
simple lunch of fruit and oatmeal wafers was enjoyed while seated 
ou the western city walls, the foimdations of which were laid by a 
Roman mason, when Rome .was ruler of the world. Yonder 
"wizard stream," which Britons worshipijed, now so placid, once 
was vexed with CiBsar's oarsmen. That tower, bearing his name, 
was built by Julius Csesar, tradition affirms. Imperial coins, pagan 
altars, baths and statues, still are found, though gi-owing fewer, like 
the books of the Sibyl, every year. The tooth of time is gnawing 
them away, and the attempt to " keep the ruins in repair" has not 
always been as successful as at lona. A workman, for instance, 
during the last century was directed to replace the heads of images 
which had tumbled off their appropriate shoulders in Chester 
Cathedral. The ignorant mason mixed things in an amusing way, 
cementing the stony skull of some mailed monarch to the body of a 
tender virgin, aud putting a queen's head on a king's neck. An old 



14 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUKOPE. 



writer observes, " We will not pretend to say what sort of a head 
the artist must have liad ; he knew, however, how to put old heads 
ou youug shoulders!" Speaking of Chester's crumbling churches re- 
minds one of that peppery paragraph which Dean Swift wrote. 
Stopping here awhile, he invited some ministers to dine with him, 
not one of whom accepted the courtesy. He vented his spleen as 
follows; 

" The church and clergy of this city are very near akin, 
They're weather-beaten all without and empty all within." 

In an old chronicler I found these items: "1489. A goose was 
eaten on the top of St. Peter's steeple by the parson and his friends." 
A-spiring man, indeed! "1595. Ale to be sold three pints for a 
penny. In 1605, 1313 died of the jjlague." After this a siege, when 
a still more fearful mortality prevailed, and grass grew in the busi- 
ness streets. " God's Providence Hou.se" is said to be the only one 
that escaped ; and, carved on the oaken beam, I read the pious testi- 
mony, " God's ijrovidence is mine inheritance." The strange streets 
and rows, gates and towers, markets and hostelries, with overhang- 
ing gables, quaint panellings and burrowing alleys crowded with 
sombre rookeries, the churches and chapels, ancient crypts and clois- 
ters, cannot be described in detail, nor yet the -Cathedral, which I 
saved for the last, "grey with the memories of two thousand years." 
Here stood Apollo's temple, and before that the Druids had their 
older fane. Entering the gorgeous edifice, I stood in the choir be- 
neath a canopy of oak, surrounded by elaborately carved stalls, pews, 
pulpit, lectern, throne, o'erhung with richest tracery, and "dyed in 
the soft chequerings of a sleepy light. " AVhat a crowd of associa- 
tions fill the mind of the well-read stranger who, alone, can stand 
and think in a place like this! This throne was a pedestal that once 
held the relics which wrought famous miracles, as the credulous be- 
lieved, in the days of the Heptarchy. Could these storied walls that 
echo to Dean Howson's voice speak out the secrets which they hold, 
what a vivid romance would they tell us of feudal baron, Christian 
king and cloistered saint. These stones are smooth. The feet of 
monarchs and of martyrs have trodden them. These monumental 
inscriptions embalm the most precious reminiscences of the Church 
and nation. No wonder that English character, nurtured amid such 
influences, is what it is. As the biographer of Dr. Johnson wrote of 
Chester, so each visitor writes, "I was quite enchanted, so that I 
could with difficulty quit it." 

WELSH SCHNEIIY. 

We are now on an express train, which is going forty miles an 
hour, " from Dee to Sea," to connect with the Dublin steamer. AVe 
have left the hill behind from whicli Cromwell bombarded Chester; 
Mr. Gladstone's Park, and Flint Castle, where Richard II. and Bol- 
ingbroke met, as described in Shakespeare's tragedy. Its "rude ribs 
and tattered battlements" are fast disappearing. That Welsh wonder. 
"St. Winifred's Well," which gushed where the severed head of the 
virgin nun fell, a place of pilgrimage since the days of the Conqueror^ 
the smoky collieries of Mostyn; the vale of Clwyd; Rhyl, a popular 
watering place; the prison home of Richard at Rhuddlan Castle, ! 
the spire of the Cathedral City, St. Asaph; remains of Roman camps, ! 
Abergele, where the horrid burning of 33 railway passengers took | 
place in 1868, when a train, dashing on at sixty miles an hour, collided 
with petroleum cars; Conway, with its ivy-clad, embattled towers, 14 
feet thick; the church-yard where Wordsworth met the little maid 
who would have it, " We are seven," though two were in that cluu-ch- 
yardlaid; the Druid's Circle beyond, overlooking Beaumaris Bay; ] 
Llewellyn's Tower; Penrhyn Castle and Menai Bridge— these are but I 
a few of the points of interest that arrest attention. But the be- j 
witching beauty of those Welsh mountains, wreathed in coronals of ! 
purple mist and mingled sunshine ; those grassy dells and flowery din- i 
gles, in which pretty cottages and churches nestle, and the broad, | 
blue sea, unruffled, in which were seen the lengthening shadows of 
headland and island, all this can be imagined, but not easily de- 
scribed. It was my purpose to ascend Snowden, not to catch the 
gift of inspiration pi'omised to him who slept on its lofty summit, 
but to enjoy the marvellous prospect of four kingdoms, England, 
Scotland, Wales and Ireland, at a single sweep. Some one has said 
CsBsar must have stood upon this sterile peak when he formed the 
daring conception of ruling the globe. Twenty-five lakes, and moun ■ 



tains uncounted, are seen when the atmosphere is favorable. But 
the summer of '79 was an unfavorable one in the United Kingdom, 
and so I turned away, knowing that the Alps and Appenines were 
yet to come. 

From Bangor to the western extremity of Anglesey is 125 miles, 
just about the length of the name of the first village after you pass 
the colossal bridge, wliich is, LLANFAIRPWLLGWYNGYLLGO- 
GERYCHWYRNDROBWLLTYSILIOGOGOGOCH— 54 letters— 
"linked sweetness, long-drawn out," yet a word every day used, and 
pronounced in a single breath, without pause ! These mountaineers 
must be a healthy, long-winded mce, to be able to handle words as 
long as the moral law. 

The conductor, who spoke English when we left Chester, struck out 
into Welsh soon after we gcrt into the dark tunnel region, both of 
which were equally oliscure. It is a my.stery how the sons of Cam- 
bria cling to their vernacular, and that the Se^'ern and the Dee divide, 
as with impassable barrier, one nationality from another. Some as- 
cribe this antipathy to the English tongue to the remembered cruel- 
ties of the Lancastrian family; others to the teachings of their 
ancient bards and the revival through the principality of the 
Eisteddfodu with its competitive exercises. The Welsh are a pious, 
thriftv race, and even a swift, hurried tour will give one a pleasant 
impression of the people, as well as of the country. 

THE ISLE OF IilAN. 

Here is another primitive race, a little sequestered nationality, as 
peculiar as the miniature republic of San Mflvipo in Italy, or Andorre 
away among the Pyrenees. The population is 54,000. The lan- 
guage of the Manx is like the Erse or Irish. I found it still spoken, 
althotigh dying out. Its literature is rich in archfeologic lore and 
has been saved through the exertions of a national society, many 
precious carvals (carols) having been found in smoky tomes, in many 
a peasant's hut. These JIS. ballads record events from the fabu- 
lous period before the .sixth century down to the days of Norsemen 
and Normand. Their insulated position has helped to perpetuate 
among the JIaux a national type of their ow^. As latel}' as April 
4, ISTO, the House of Keys unanimously voted " firmly to ojipose any 
attempt to absorb the ancient see of Sudor and Man, or to amalgamate 
it with any other diocese." 

School boards are compulsory, and the daily attendance of 
pupils strictly enforced. Governor Loch has managed affau's since 
1863 with public spirit, and he has promoted postal, telegraph 
and railway communication on the i.sland. Five hours by steamer, 
direct from Liverpool, bring you to Douglas, 75 miles. The 
Barrow route is but 40. The nearest point is only 16 miles, and for- 
merly was still nearer, as geologists believe. Indeed it is said that 
over the shallow strait a Scandina\'iau King once tried to build a 
bridge. Mona, as Tacitus called the island, is 33 miles long. Sev- 
eral lines of railways traverse it. I .selected the Castletown and vis- 
ited the southern shore and spent a night at Port Erin, on the western 
side, near Calf of Man. The word Man, jNlaun or Mona is believed 
to be from Sanscrit root, and significant of the hol3M'epute of the isle, 
as our word Monk. 

Douglas, an attracti\'e town of 10,000 jieople, is the centre of in- 
terest. It is built on terraced hills overlooking its crescent bay, and 
inucli fi-equented as a watering place. But the student of nature and 
lover of antiquity will push into the interior, and ramble over the 
ruins of old Druidic temples, altars, groves and consecrated foun- 
tains; peer into the round tower, the tumuli and cairns where the 
urn of human ashes still is seen, and the stone ambo, or pulpit, stands 
as of old; study the mystic Runes (secrets) on cross and gravestone; 
by "trap" or steaijier visit the rocky cliffs on the southwest where 
the petrel and puflin, the liawk and falcon hover, or visit the High- 
lands and climb Snfefell, where one can enjoy a most exhilarating 
prospect. The metalliferous hills, worked by Romans, are yet yield- 
ing wealth in silver, lead and copper. The famous Laxey AVheel, 
about 220 feet roimd. attracts many to the mines. In some of the 
secluded moorland cottages, the ancient jacket of undyed wool and 
the Sunday blanket still are seen. Old superstitions as to fairies, 
elves, bugganes and other apparitions yet prevail. The story of the 
spectre-hound that haunted Peel Castle is referred to in Scott's " Lay 
of the Last Minstrel." Shakespeare also makes reference to this his- 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



toric isle. " The Cloven Stones" mark the resting place of a Welsh 
prince who brought his warriors here before the Scandinavians set- 
tled, and credulous people have been seen during the present cen- 
tury soberly waiting at a certain hour, to behold the two sides of 
the split rock strike together, as it was believed they would, when 
Kirk Lovan Church bell rang a Sunday peal. When the first Nor- 
wegian King landed, fresh from the conquest of the Orkneys and 
Hebrides, he was asked by the natives whence he came. It was a 
clear, starlight night, says Brown, and pointing up to the Milky 
Way, glittering in the heavens, he said "That's the road to my 
country." The starry belt has since been known to the Manx as 
King Orrey's Road. Tlie designation of the bishopric is Sodor and 
Man. The cathedral at lonawas called Soder, from SmTi/p, Saviour. 
Others derive Sodor from the Norwegian word, meaning Southern 
Islands. 

The air was misty during my visit, and the ocean outlooks had in 
the Hebrides were not granted, but the old castles and church-yards, 
the pleasant dells and hillsides, bright with gorse and fern, the cairns 
and cottages, and the men and women seen, amply repaid mc. On 
my way back to Liverpool, as I sat on deck writing, a stranger, of 
plain, intelligent appearance, spoke to me and began asking ques- 
tions as to America. Others drew near, and for twenty minutes I 
spoke in familiar colloquy on Labor and Capital, Socialism, Strikes, 
the needless asperities between the rich and poor, and the chances 
for social advancement in that vast continent over the sea. I never 
spoke to a more attentive audience in any lecture room than that 
whicli sat around me on the fore deck of that fine Manx steamer. 

SOtJTHEEN ENGLAND AND ISLE OP WIGHT. 

The rambles about the birthplace of Shakespeare and the emo- 
tions awakened need not be described. The blink of sunshine en- 
joyed set off the rural beauties of Stratford-on-x\.von to the best ad- 
vantage, and a noonday meal under the humble roof of a canty 
dame, such as Goody Blake once was, proved a pleasing adjunct to 
the excursion. The wild thyme and musk rose, the oxlip and violet 
were just as sweet on the river banks, and the meadows were still 
painted with "daisies pied and violets blue, and cuckoo buds of 
yellow hue," as when the boy poet chased the butterflies over the 
greensward. 

With different emotions did I walk about Bedfobd to the spot 
where the Immortal Dreamer saw heaven opened, out to Elstow cot- 
tage, to the old barn where he held meetings, and the village church 
where he rang the bell. The words of Lord Macaulay came to mind, 
"This is the highest miracle of genius, that imaginations of one 
mind should become the personal recollections of another; and this 
miracle the tinker has wrouglit." Nor did I forget gentle Cowper as 
I crossed the valley of the Ouse and looked away towards Olney's 
' ' calm retreat and silent shade, " where he and Rev. John Newton 
used to sit in loving converse till late into the night. An hour's ride 
brought me to London. 

THE CITY OP LONDON. 

Its present magnitude awes you. A country dame on her first visit 
to the sea, looking over its vastness, and mentally contrasting it with 
the pent-up Utica that hitherto had contracted her vision, exclaimed : 
"I'm glad to see something that there is ('Ho«(/A (///" Twentj'-five 
years ago, as I stood by the ball on the top of St. Paul's dome, that 
which from the ground seemed a nut-shell, but really a space sufficient 
to hold a large family, and looked up and down the Valley of the 
Thames, a score of miles over the homes of millions — a city then ten 
times as large as Boston, from which I came — I felt like the old lady. 
There before me was a city that was simply immense, both in extent 
and population. But a quarter of a century has made it still larger. 
It is abroad, wide, teeming sea of humanity, a study for the thought- 
ful — the London of history and of literature; of commerce and 
manufactures; of science and art — the London of our nursery 
rhymes, and the centre of the world! Where shall one begin, and 
when and where can he end, in the exploration of its labyrinthine 
life? 

Outdoor life, of course, cannot be as bright in smoky London 
as in sunny France or Italy, but its varied phases, though sombre, 
are interesting to study. How well Dickens knew these streets and 



bridges, and what realistic intensity he throws into his prose as 
Thomas Hood has put into his verse. 

LONDON BRIDGE. 

Let us stand here and watch the pomp and pride in velvet and silk; 
the want and woe in wretchedness and rags; those who laugh and 
sing, and those who weep and sigh, and look longingly into the dark 
water as a possible relief from misery. Think of the history of old 
London Bridge, for six centuries the only tie between the town and 
the Surrey Side ; a town in itself, inhabited by some of the richest 
merchants, who not only had their shops here, but built "statelio 
houses on either side, one continual vault or roof, except certain void 
spaces for the I'etire of passengers from the danger of carts and droves 
of cattle." So wrote Norden in 1624. Here lived the great painters 
Hogarth and Holbein, and, for a time, the still more famous John Bun- 
yan. The heads of traitors used to be here exposed, such as Jack 
Cade and his associates, also those of men of worth, like William 
Wallace, Bolingbroke, Thomas More, and Bishop of Rochester. 
There were 3000 perished here when botli ends of the bridge were 
on fire at once. L'uder the arches of the stone stairs leading to the 
water-side many of the cadgers of Loudon burrow, and other gypsy 
tramps, rough and reckless, who in Naples might be called the lazid- 
roiii, only the softer climate there makes a lazier set. 

ALONG THE THAifES. 

We have begun our outdoor rambles with London Bridge. Let us 
keep along the river-side, up and down between the Temple and the 
Tower; London Bridge and London Docks. Into this dark and 
dingy stream of humanity we launch as into a swirling, rushing 
river. Keep j'our eyes about you, lest you are crushed, or run over, 
or trodden under feet. What a tangle of bales and bags, of boxes 
and baskets, of cranes and chains, the adjuncts of busy traffic in the 
world's throbbing centre! Here are storehouses and warehouses; 
steam mills and factories; fish-markets and junk-shops, and crowds 
of costermongers, draymen, sailors, carters, clerks, pedlers, and 
idlers of every hue and naliunality. The swarthy Lascar, the fairer 
Swede or Dane, and the jet-black Negro, all are pushing and pulling, 
helping with hand and tongue to swell the ceaseless roar of business 
that rises from dawn to dark from these narrow, crowded thorough- 
fares of lower London. The German poet and critic Heinrich Heine 
said that this was the place for a philosopher, but not for a poet. The 
colossal energy, the solemn earnestness, the hurry as if in anguish, 
which the tumultuous life of Loudon illustrates, " oppresses the im- 
agination, and rends the heart in twain." Yet a sweeter spirit, Leigh 
Hunt, has somewhere said that the art of cultivating pleasant asso- 
ciations is a secret of happiness. He did forget that Spencer was 
born at Smithfield, Milton at Cheapside, Gray on Cornhill, and Pope 
on Lombard Street ; that Rose Street, though not wholly a rose gar- 
den, was Butler's home, and not far away were the haunts of Dryden, 
Pope, and Voltaire, to say nothing of the crowd of poets and authors 
of later date who lived in the din and smoke of London. 

TOWEH OV LONDON. 

Here we are I't the Tower,_the most interesting building in the 
world in many respects. This royal fortress is a silent volume of 
English history. Room after room opens romance, mystery and 
tragedy, the thrilling influence of which is measured partly by one's 
acquaintance with the facts and partly b}' his responsiveness to senti- 
ment. Hazlitt said that he was "a slave to the picturesque," and it 
woufd seem as if the tall, portly beef-eaters who act as guides were 
gotten up in the most picturescxue. style possible. Their immaculate 
broadcloth frocks, trimmed with red braid; their velvet hats, gay 
with blue ribbons, and their Cocknej' speech, are decidedly interest- 
ing. Speaking of Devereux, or somebod}' else who fell under royal 
wrath, and so under a heading axe, our dignified but loquacious war- 
der rattled off his story, beginning with the perfectly safe remark, 
"Ef 'eed lived, 'eed never have lost 'is 'ed. Now then, 'ear is the 
silly-brated Toledo blades, werry pritty. Over yer 'eds the wall is 
sixteen feet thick. Show yer yaller tickets, please." Then he went 
from "grave to gay, from live!}' to severe," having an eye to the 
recompense of reward in silver or golden coin which each trip is 
likely to secure. He told me that twenty-one persons made a full 
party, and that he nuule three joui'neys daily, one hour each. He 



16 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



thought that that was a large day's work. I thought it an easy one. 
Still, he had twice as much avoirdupois to carry about, besides a great 
deal of red tape. 

Guide books give all needed information about the ten centuries of 
h istory that centre here ; the dimensions of this vast Bastile ; the facts 
and legends of its hoary stones, and gates, and dungeons, and the 
.statistics of the wealth stored up in jewels, diadems and precious 
relics. A single crown shown me had 3066 diamonds, and I was 
told that its value was a million pounds sterling. More interesting 
are the memorials of the gentle Lady Jane Grey, of Dudley, Raleigh, 
Anne Boleyn, and the Princes; the garments worn bj^ the good and 
great of kingly and of civic renown, and the words they had left on 
wall or window, in treasured book and manuscript. In the British 
Museum, also, one of antiquarian tastes will enjoy much in this line, 
besides the treasures of modern science and literature gathered there. 

Many years ago, when spending a week or two in Loudon. I 
strangely neglected to visit a place of special attractiveness about 
which much has been written. The first day I spent in the city last 
summer found me at the exhibition Of the celebrated 

tussaud's wax figures. 

Coming direct from the British Museum to Tussaud's Historical 
Gallery. I was prepared 'to enjoy the !altei-lo its full. It was like 
the stereopticou pictm-es that follow a lecture, or, rather, like an in- 
troduction to the very scenes described. In the Museum 3-011 see the 
books that were handled and the manuscript letters that were writ- 
ten by the kings and queens of centuries ago; in the gallery j'ou see 
the faces and forms of those celebrities, apparentljMnstinct with life. 
ruddy with health, and standing waiting to welcome you. The 
moulding in wax, the coloring of the complexion, tlie attitude and 
grouping, the garments worn, and the other accessories, are so tlior- 
oughly life-like, you can hardly believe that these are not real exist- ' 
ences. The passing footsteps or the jar of the street often gives a 1 
tremor to the jewel that hangs from breast or ear, and 3'ou imagine 
a rebuke to your impudent stare is about to fall from those lips that i 
look so warm and ros}'. There sits JIary, Queen of Scots, ready lo ' 
be executed, with the rosar}- she held when beheaded, three hundred 
years ago, slipped through her hand and fallen on tlie floor; tlicre 
Jane Grey, Marie Antoinette, Anne Boleyn. Catharine Howard, 
Joan of Arc, and manj- others whose tragic deaths are familiar. 

Of the general accuracy of their portraits, size and proportions, 
and of the historic fidelity of their draperj- and general appearance, 
there can be no doubt. The grave seems i-obbed of the dead, and 
the dust reanimated, and returned to the homes of other days. 
Here stands the kingl}' form of Henry VIII. in his grand court 
dress, with all his wives about him, robed in qr.eenly splendor; 1 
Henry III., who in 1226 first enjoyed in England tlie luxury of a 
carpet, introduced from Spain in place of straw and rushes: the 
present Queen and her court; her late husband and the lamented 
Alice, recently deceased; the children of the Prince of Wales, at 
])lay with dog and doll; the Berlin Congress, the Pope and other ' 
Papal dignitaries, and that troublesome Ai-thur Tooth, of the English 
Church, stiff, stern, sad, as if sore and aching under the ecclesiasti- 
cal dentistry to which he has been subjected. But time fails to tell 
of all the great reformers like Knox, Calvin and Luther; statesmen 
like Palmerston, Brougham, Peel, Cobden, and Bright; the scholars, 
Shakespeare, Chaucer, Wycliffe, Macaulay, Voltaire, BjTon, and 
Scott; foreign potentates, military men, and celebrities of all peri- 
ihIs, down to Grant, Lincoln, Andy Johnson, and Uncle Tom. 

Pass now into the " Golden Chamber." Here is the bed on which 
Napoleon breathed his last, with the blood-stains made by the lancet, 
vainly used to give relief in his last hours from the pain of that 
cancer of the stomach which consumed him ; the cloak he wore at 
Marengo; his watch, stopped at 2:30, the moment of death; his 
other garments, his favorite garden chair; the atlas in which he drew 
his battle plans; his table ware; swords, camp equipage, and the 
carriage in which he rode to the disasters of Russia and Waterloo. 
Here are the garments of Nelson, worn at the battle of the Nile, and 
those of Henry of Navarre, when stabbed by Ravaillac, dyed with 
the blood of the martyred king. Finally comes the "Chamber of 
Horrors," which some will do well to omit, and I will not describe, 
mentioning only the forms of Marat and Robespierre, the key of the 



BastUe, and the original guillotine by which 23,000 were decapitated 
in the first French Revolution, considered the most extraordinary 
relic in London. 

HIGH LIb'E AND LOW LIFE. 

Hyde Park and Buckingham Palace are not far away, Westmin- 
ster and Belgrave Square, j'ct amid the rich equipages aad liveried 
footmen, here and there mingle the poor and humble, the nondescript 
and castaway. So everywhere, whether in Pall Mall, with its club- 
houses. Paternoster Row, the book centre, or in Seven Dials and 
Devil's Acre, Shbreditch and Whitechapel, this great Babylon pres- 
ents continual and startling contrasts. The name does not always 
indicate the present coudilion of the place, as Rosemaiy Lane for 
example. Few flowers will you see, and little that is agreeable to 
sight or smell. Localities once associated with Burke, Addison, 
Goldsmith, Boswell, and Johnson, are not now quite in keeping 
with these names. But when one thinks of four million people 
packed into London, the density of the population is evident in 
the deterioration of certain neighborhoods. I was interested in vis- 
iting some mission centres and seeing what was done for the de- 
graded and desperate classes. Several hundred laj' missionaries are 
doing noble . service, and are not laboring in vain. One meeting I 
attended among a corapauj' of robliers and prostitutes, whom it 
would not be safe to meet under ordinary circumstances unprotected. 
The words of Scripture, of pra.yer and entreaty, moved some to lotid 
weeping, which showed sincere though perhaps transient feeling. 
The ' ' Seven Curses of London" have been justly named, ' ' Neglected 
children, professional thieves, professional 'beggars, fallen women, 
drunkenness, gambling, and last, not least, misapplied alms." Blan- 
chard Jerrold Says that £1500 are often coaxed from a dinner party 
of 150 gentlemen at Loudon Tavern, no tax being more willingly 
paid than the dinner tax, " a grace that follows your meat and 
sanctifies it," to use Thackeray's words. Three thousand unpaid 
teachers gi^'e the leisure of their evenings, after daj's of toil, to the 
work of teaching the street Arabs. This is nobler and more fruitful 
effort than the gift of nronej' to mendicants. It was my privilege to 
mingle with the extremes of society. West End life and East End; 
to enjoy the hospitalities of the wealthy, and to look into the homes 
of the humble. I shall not forget the hearty welcome received at a 
social meeting in Deane's Cotut, near Old Bailey, one night, and 
how eagerlj- the words of " the stranger from America" were heard. 
Hundreds of these beacon lights are burning amid the moral dark- 
ness of London. These social gatherings and still larger ones in 
connection with coffee-houses, where music is fm-ni.shed, offset the 
attractions of the gin palace and the "penny gaff," the rat pits and 
dance halls. In the thieves' Latin the missionarj' is called " the gos- 
pel grinder. " but he saves many a lost one, who, but for him, would go 
to grind in the prison house of despair. It is estimated that one person 
out of every 150 is a housebreaker, thief, forger, or some other kind 
of criminal. Nearly all of these 25,000 or more are known to the 
police. On the other hand, as James Greenwood observes, each of 
this predatory crew knows the detective and smells "trap" as keenly 
as a fox. The innocent smock-frock or bricklayer's jacket or loose 
neckerchief cannot conceal his approach. They scent him from 
afar, and know when it is safe to "pinch a bob" (rob a till), "go 
snowing" (rob linen), and when it is not safe. Their cleverness and 
subtlety are amazing. Some are so seared in conscience as to be ap- 
parently desperate. Others would welcome hone.st employment if 
offered, and so escape the hazard, anxiety, and torment of their 
wolfish life. The model houses built by Burdett Coutts and George 
Peabody suggest still another practical form of alleviating the woe 
and want of London poor. 

OLD JACOB STOCK. 

I used to follow him in imagination in his daily visits to the temple 
of Plutus, in Threadneedle Street, and see him, as described in boy- 
hood readings, the stout-built, round-shouldered, bearish-looking 
man of hard face and harder heart ; with gray, glassy eye and 
wrinkled brow, where the interest table and the rise and fall of 
stocks were written. Through wind and rain, and hail and sleet, he 
made his journeys from his bachelor abode to the field of his specu- 
lation, always looking for the main chance. As I mingled with the 
crowds along the street, front of the Exchange and Mansion House, 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



17 



it was easy to pick out Jacob. It is pleasant to believe, however, 
that there are a hundred large-hearted men to one crabbed skinflint 
like Jacob Stock. A Leadenhall merchant courteously introduced 
me into the Bank of England, through lines of clerks, depositors, 
detectives, beadles and footmeu; through piles of ledgers and ac- 
count books; into weighing room and vaults, where money was 
plenty enough to satisfy Sliylock himself. One of the officials kindly 
presented me with £3,000.000 in bank notes ready for delivery. It 
was the first time that I had ever held between thumb and foi-efinger 
ten million dollars in a single bunch of bills. 'For the moment I 
felt as comfortable as the penniless preacher did each Sunday who 
always bori'owed on Saturday a ten-dollar note, which he returned 
Monday morning. He said that he got along nicely with that in his 
pocket, for he had not yet learned to " preach tpithoiit notes." The 
officer informed me that he had a couple of hundred millions more 
left of John Bull's money. He also tantalized me further by hand- 
ing over a heavy bag of gold. Indeed, his liberality was overwhelm- 
ing. Yet I left as poor as I entered. 

LOKDON PARKS. 

The family of whom first I hired lodgings lived near Hyde Park. 
This has about 400 acres and is beautified bj' a winding stream, the 



oppressed with the abundance of materials. He may remain a year, 
and only make a beginning. Were I to describe the indoor sights 
alone; the churches and preachers; the galleries of pictures exam- 
ined ; the halls and museums ; the House of Commons and its debates ; 
the dinner parties and a score of other incidents, a bulky volume 
would be the result. Either St. Paul's or Westminster Abbey alone 
would suffice for material. 

" We touch and go, and sip the foam of many lives," says Emer- 
son. This is a ■'touch and go" out-door ramble. Only a sip is 
had here and there of the wine of life. Three weeks in London can 
give but a very inadequate idea of the vastness of its extent, the 
variety and wealth of its resources. But I could spare no more 
time, and reserved further explorations till a future visit. To rural 
scenes the remaining days in England were devoted. 

WENDSOR AKU ETON. 

" 'Tis always sunrise somewhere in the world," was the cheery 
word of Richard Henry Home. Out of the roar and rush of Lon- 
don, its smoke and fog, and once more amid the sunny fields of 
Middlesex and Berkshire, you are ready to accept the same optimist 
view of life. Windsor Castle, the superb chapel, the Long Walk, 
the exquisite view of the valley of the Thames and Eton College be- 




■WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 



Serpentine. Imposing reviews of horse and foot attract thousands 
to this lovely retreat. The Kensington Gardens and Museum are 
contiguous, also Green and St. James Parks. The Zoological and 
horticultural attractions of Regent's Park were fully enjoyed. 
Another afternoon was given to Crystal Palace, Sydenham, a little 
way out of town. The grounds embrace 200 acres and are embel- 
lished with floral beauty, works of art, fountains and cascades. The 
Aquarium and the concerts, the opportunities for archery, boating 
and other athletic exercises, and the display of industrial and artistic 
skill furnish entertainment to thousands daily. Seven million dol- 
lars have been expended on the palace and grounds. There are 
thirty other "lungs of London," known as parks or squares, besides 
smaller oases and bits of green where the eye pastures with as keen 
delight as do the browsing sheep. 

The stranger gains a more cheerful idea of the gi-eat metropolis as 
he walks through these breathing-places and sees the happier side of 
city life. Excursions up and down the river, for a penny or more, 
according to the distance, I found exceedingly interesting, as after- 
wards on the Seine at Paris. Greenwich, with its hospital, park 
and Royal Observatory, also is remembered with pleasm-e. But one is 



yond, can never be forgotten. " It was at Eton that Waterloo was 
won!" once said the Iron Duke. Founded before America was 
knoi\Ti, this college has grown to be one of the richest in the world. 
The most eminent peers of the realm were trained here, besides Eng- 
lish commoners of equal ability. It is said to have never lost its 
monastic aspect. In earlj' days the students were roused at five by 
the loud shout Surgite! uttered by a prepostor. To economize time, 
probablj', a morning prayer was ordered to be said while the}' were 
dressing and making their beds. It would seem that no time was 
given to air the bedding. The private wash-up was followed by 
public worship at 6 a.m. A prepostor then examined the face of 
each and his hands to see if they were clean. After this preposterous 
performance, studies were begun. Friday was flogging-day. Stan- 
ton says that this form of mental stimulus is stiU not unfrequently 
applied to youthful Etonians. 

BRISTOL AND MU. MULljER. 

At Bristol I visited the orphan schools of that beloved man of God, 
Rev. George JIuller. He had just returned from the Continent, 
where he had preached 286 times in French, English and German, 



18 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



and to Italians and Spanish through an interpreter. He was about 
to leave again for America to meet 108 written invitations, which he 
could not accept when he left New York, June, 1878. Tlie physical 
vitality and mental freshness of Mr. M. at 74 is only surpassed by his 
spiritual vigor and productiveness. With him and his esteemed 
wife I visited the five orphan houses, tarrying in one long enough to 
hear a brief exercise by the children. Others I saw at work in a 
flower-patch, all of whom greeted their patron with unaffected affec- 
tion and respect. Since 1834, without solicitation of funds, £830,000 
have been received ; 5683 orphans have been supported and taught in 
the institution, and 71,000 persons taught in schools entirely sup- 
ported by its funds. Home and foreign missionaries also have shared 
in these benefactions, and many millions of books, testaments and 
Bibles circulated. Particulars, however, are given in his annual 
reports and in the last edition of his life prepared by the writer 
(Sheldon & Co., 1878). 

Memories of Bishop Butler, and Southey and Chatterton are 
awakened as you walk the busy streets of the city where they were 
born. It is believed that Gray deserves the credit of discovering the 
literary forgeries of Chatterton, detecting in these pseudo-productions 
of old times the modern word its. This ' ' sleepless soul that perished 
in his pride," as Wordsworth puts it, presents a tragic picture of a 
brilliant but lawless genius, preferring suicide at seventeen to a life 
of mortified ambition. 

Pushing along the Via Julia which the Romans built to their 
Welsh domain, I crossed the swift turbid stream where the Severn 
broadens into the channel, rode through Portskewet, Llanwern and 
other villages where Monmouthshire farmers had reared their ricks 
of barley and of hay, and where ivy-clad churches peeped out of bow- 
ers of green. Newport is a shipping port for coal, lime and iron, but I 
did not inspect its industries, nor ride up to the lovely ruins of 
Tintern Abbey, amid the beauties of the valley of the Wye. But if 
one give four days to the Isle of Wight, he will confess it to be 
ample compensation, for Dr. Hoppin well calls this " a pocket edi- 
tion of England, an epitome of all her beauties of rolling hills, quiet 
valleys, emerald meadows, hedgy lanes, broken cliffs and shaggy 
ocean bays. 

ISLE OF WIGHT. 

Crossing at Spithead I rode on the top of a stage-coach from Ryde 
to Newport, seven miles, and the following morning nine miles 
further in a low, light, easy vehicle called a "fly." Stopping at 
Carisbrook Castle, the warder answered the beU and took me through 
this historic ruin, to the room where Princess Elizabeth died, to the 
window through which corpulent Charles vainly tried to .squeeze, 
and to the castle well which the guide made to be 240 feet deep, 
enlarging its dimeii-;ions, perhaps, to suit the American laste for ex- 
aggeration. 

On we drove through villages and quiet lanes, shaded with groves 
of nut; by velvet lawns and romantic hollows, odorous with the 
breath of that cloudless midsummer's morning. Leigh Richmond's 
tract "Dairyman's Daughter" lay on my knees, and as my juvenile 
driver did not disturb the restful silence, I had nothing to' do but to 
enjoy the scene and verify the description. There were the "lofty 
hills with navy signal posts, obelisks and lighthouses on their sum- 
mits," and across "the rich cornfields, the sea with ships at various 
distances." Prom Thursday till Monday I was the guest of Mr. C. 
at Freshwater Bay, whose elegant manor house is situated in a park 
of 700 acres by the banks of the Yar, near the Needles, Alum Bay, 
Yarmouth, and not far from Parringford, awhile the residence of the 
poet laureate. Day after day, excursions were made on foot or by 
boat or by carriage to interesting localities, and when the Sabbath 
came it was a rare pleasure to realize what every toiirist should aim 
to enjoy, at least once, a Sunday in the rural districts of England. 
No one had given me so vivid a picture of it as Irving in the "Sketch 
Book."* 

How cool and sweet the air, as we pass under the oak and ilex 
by the roadside, through the wicket gate and strawben-y sprinkled 
patch into the vestibule whose gray arches were chiselled seven 



centuries ago! Sit here by the open window through which comes 
the odor of new-mown hay, while the gush of organ music rises, 
swells and dies away in distant aisle, cloister and chapel. See that 
aged clerk who rises with the rector to lead our responses. His hair 
is white with nearly 80 winters. He soon wOl lift his Nunc Dimittis 
and leave his bodily sanctuary as silent as this will be in an hour. 
Those children before him, with daffodils and daisies in their bauds, 
are June close by December. Their voices blend sweetly with his 
in song, as flute with reed. The preacher tells us of the loving 
Saviour healing the demoniac daughter. Now he bids us tany to 
celebrate the Memorial Supper. "Take and eat this, in remem- 
brance that Christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by 
faith and with thanksgiving." Surely it is good to be here. "How 
amiable are thy tabernacles O Lord of hosts! A day in thy courts 
is better than a thousand." Even more delightful are the memories 
of that happy home where culture and wealth are sanctified by 
religion, and where Sunday to all the children and servants was 
" the Queen of the week." After the second church service, 3 p.m., 
books and pictures, song and prayer, quiet stroUs through the groves 
and gardens, with profitable converse by the way, made the day- 
light sjjeed. Then ))ei'orL' evening prayers were had in the drawing- 
room, " capping verses" from the Bible, and matching words to the 
same, proved a lively exercise. "A" being given out, each person 
must instantly repeat from memory a verse beginning with that 
letter. Or the word " House" being selected by one of the circle, 
the rest must recite from memory some verse that contains it. 
The delicious repose of that August Sunday was a fit prelude to 




OPP FOR THE CONTINENT. 



"It is a pleasing sight of a Sunday morning, when the bell is 
sending its sober melody across the qui'et fields, "to behold the peas- 
antry in their best finery, with ruddy faces and modest cheerfulness 



the busy, brilliant scenes amid wliich I was to mingle at Paris, for 
which place the next morning saw me started, leaving Southampton 
with a crowd of passengers bound for the Continent. The weather 
was charming and all seemed bright and jubilant. 



CHAPTER IV. 

FRAT^OE AiSTD BELGIUM. 

\ WALKS ABOUT P.-VRIS. 

j We speak of London the busy, Paris the beautiful. London is 
I the world's workshop, Paris the world's drawing-room. The loveli- 
■ ness of her situation, the wealth of her people, and the glory of her 
' history have alike dazzled and bewitched men. No people, according 
I to De Tocqueville, were ever "so fertile in contrasts, more under 

thronging tranquilly along the green lanes to church," and at even- 
ing "about their cottage" doors, appearing to exult in the humble 
I comforts which their own hands have .spread around them." 
" Domestic bliss, that like a harmless dove, can centre in a quiet 
ne.st 
All that desire would fly for through the earth, and be itself a 
world enjoyed." 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



19 



llic domiuiou of feeling, and less ruled by principle ; unchangeable 
ill leading featui-es, yet so fickle in its daily opinions that at last it 
becomes a mystery to itself ; qualified for every pursuit, but excel- 
liug in nothing but war ; endowed with more genius than common 
sense, more heroism than virtue." The truth of this discriminating 
survey of the character of his countrymen by this eminent French 





Via ';^^,f,X 



-^r jum 



philosopher is corroborated by intelligent foreigners who have long 
lived here, like Tuckerraan, who says that, in its last analysis, life is 
delusive ; appearance takes the place of reality, and volubility that 
of service. Evanescence is the law of happiness ; civilization is 
materialistic ; life is filled with vain diversions, and in its impulsive, 
sensuous flow becomes a continuous melodrama, the spiritual element 
wanting and the deepest wants unsatisfied. 

B}' the single Word "Frenchified," men, in colloquial style, have 
described that which is showy and artificial, empty and jjuerile. The 
painted wreaths sold at the gates of cemeteries, the powdered hair, 
enamelled cheeks, and other absurdities illustrate this fact of 
shallowness of life and thought. But a better day has dawned. 
Nobler ideas are taking root in France. The lessons of the last 
decade are not forgotten. Good men and true are making themselves 
felt in private and iiublie posts of influence, and the truths of Prot- 
estant Christianity are developing a purer, more virile life. 

FRENCH CHAUACTEn. 

French character is still a riddle. Hazlitt thinks that he solves it 
when he says, ' ' There is mobility without momentrmi. The face is 
commonly too light and variable for repose : restless, rapid, extrava- 
gant, without depth or force.". Admitting that the French are 
superior to the English in delicacy and refinement, he thinks that 
the former are frivolous and shallow. Their Pfere la Chaise is a sort 
of baby-house, with idle ornaments and mimic finery ; full of effem- 
inate and theatric extravagances, such as befit a masquerade ; a 
pleasure resort where " death seems life's playfellow, and grief and 
smiling content sit at one tomb together." But he admits that he 
changes his opinions " fifty times a day," because at every step he 
would form a theory of French character which at the next step is 
contradicted. 

Le Compte says it is the fault of the French that "they are too 
serious." Gravity and levity are queerly mingled. They are some- 
times gay in serious matters and grave in trifles, as has been noticed 
when under the spell of some dramatic representation, but the jump 
is^sudden to the other extreme. 

■isLe French are fond of perfumes, but often insensible to ill odors. 
They deal in scents, and have fifty sorts of snuffs, but "hang over 
a dung-hill as if it were a bed of roses, or swallow the most detest- 
able dishes with the greatest relish." French life and English life 
are, however, developed under different conditions, both in city and 
country. 



rfTDOOB AND OUTDOOE. 

Au English writer says that at home everything is made domestic 

and commodious, but daily vocations are carried on indoors. Life 

is frained and set in comforts, but is wanting in the vivid coloring 

and glowing expression of outdoor activity as on the Continent. 

In Prance, "life glows or spins carelessly around on its soft axle. 

_ The same animal spirits that supply a fund 

/f| of cheerful thoughts break out into all the 

■ ; extravagances of mirth and social glee. The 

air is a cordial to them, and thej' drink 

drams of sunshine. You see the women, 

with their red petticoats and bare feet, 

,. washing clothes in the river instead of 

standing over a wash-tub; a girl sitting in 

tliesun; a soldier reading; a group of old 

women chatting in a corner, and laughing 

till their sides are ready to split; or a string 

of children tugging a fishing-boat out of the 

harbor as the evening sun goes down, and 

making the air ring with their songs." 

CHANGES IN PARIS. 

Twenty-five years ago, during the Crim- 
ean War, I found Paris a lively, stirring 
centre. The Rue de Rivoli had just been 
finished, and activit}' in building every- 
where was seen. I saw the Emperor walk- 
ing in the gardens of the Tuileries, in the 
garb of a citizen. Standing, last August, 
on the same spot, amid the ruins of that 
palace, and recalling the sad fortunes of that royal household, and of 
Paris, I could not repress the feeling of melancholy. The cloudy 
sky and the chilly air, which made au overcoat desirable; the 
withered leaves that had prematurely fallen, and were blown about 
as in late autumn, and the deserted look of that usually brilliant 
resort deepened this feeling. Noticing the workmen who were 
changing the inscription on the frieze of the Chamber of Deputies, 
I remarked to a citizen that I had noticed, painted on the 
Notre Dame, "Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite." With mingled 
despondency and sarcasm he replied, " Yes, they may change 





NOTRE DAME. 



these eveiy ten years," and then went on, in a different tone, 
to say that he believed that the bulk of his people preferred 
the Republic to a Monarchy. " Z' empire, c'est la paiv," has no 
longer the charm which such a phrase once had, and the hope of the 
imperialists, "the peasantry will not desert us," has also gone. 
Police surveillance in 1855 was strict. I was told that my books 



20 



OUTDOOR LIFE lis EUROPE. 



and papers oue day had been examined in my absence, as was cus- 
tomary on t'lic arrival of foreigners. Last summer the concierge 
simply required my signature to a blanli, without filling up with 
statements, age, nationality, profession, object of visit, and last 
place of sojourn. It was, he said, mainly for Frenclimen, not for 
foreigners More than once, on the Continent, the simple word 
•• American, ■■ quietly spoken, has secured from various officials 




a courtesy and respect which they did not seein to show lo their own 
people. In this connection the .shrewdness of French thieves may 
be noticed, as for example, in a car, the use of false hands which lie 
on the knees, while real hands are in your pockets. It is mortifying 
to add that a robbery requiring special cleverness is called " Uii vol 
a VAmericaim" and that there is a gambling game known simplj' as 
■ • Boston. " The first day after my arrival I accepted an invitation to 
dine with a reputed millionaire on Rue de la Paix. Tlie occasion 
was a novelty and delight. We were surroimded ljy the display of 
prmcely wealth. Furniture and embellishments were after the most 
pretentious style, and servants were in the most costly livery. Af- 
ter an imposing feast of ten courses had been served, our thoughts 
tm-ned to our native land, and we joined in the old lime Miclodics 
of "Carmina Sacra" and "Home, Sweet . 

Home.'- Then the horses were ordered, a fe^ 
drive was enjoyed through the principal pF- 
boulevards and around Bois de Bologne. 
Everybody knows that Paris in the glare of 
gaslight, with its population out of doors, is 
more brilliant than by day. The fountains 
sparkle; the trees of the Elysian Fields are 
lighted with Chine.se lanterns; the orches- 
tra strikes up; the dancing girls appear, and 
the bibulous multitude sit around the pavil- 
ion at little tables and drink and smoke. 
The Lord's Day is a time of special hilarity. 
I attended service at the Madeleine. A ver- 
ger or beadle, superbly dressed, carried a 
golden stall and strutted up and down the 
central aisle as pompously as the man in 
London did whom Theodore Hook once ac- 
costed with — " Excuse me, sir; allow me to 

ask if j'ou are anybody in particular?" A ^ =---^ ■ 

gendarme, with cockade and sword, also did 

service, and a third held a swab wet in "holy" water, against which 
the smutty fingers of the beggar and the white kids of the aristocrat 
alike pressed. The bowings of priests, the genuflections, processions, 
recessions, chanting and burning of incense were not whollj- edifying, 
so I crossed Rue Royal to the Protestant Chapel and heard an excel- 
lent sermon m English from Rev. Mr. Grieve. "Come, let us join 
our friends above, " was sung to old ' ' Arlington" with a tender sweet- 



ness that can never be forgotten. A visit to the Exhibition of 1855, 

to the Louvre, Hotel Dieu, the Morgue, P6re la Chaise, Palace of the 

Luxembourg and the Bourse need no detailed description. The 

names of the streets often record their history. Rue des SlartjTS 

was trodden by saintly men who sealed their faith in blood 

on Montmartre, and Rue Pierre Levee, "street of the raised stone," 

tells the location of the altars of Driiidic sacrifice. So as you walk 

uu you think of St. Bartholomew, the 

'' 1 evolution, the Commune, and other bap- 

1 II ms of blood, and forgetting the gay- 

T tty of the present, remember the tragedies 

, of the past. 

The river bath-houses are worth visit- 
ing. From eight sous ujaward I found a 
1 )om, tub and water, but neither towel 
nor soap. These are extras. Some one 
tells of wine baths, in which a lover of 
the beverage may sit and sip and swim at 
jileasure. After his ablution is finished 
the ruby tide is drawn off into the next 
1 )om, and Ko. 3 has his fill at a lower 
figure. Perhaps No. 3 may find, as he 
1 istes, that the wine has considerable 
body" to it. Having Avashed a score 
t dirty fellows il is bottled, on (lit, for 
L\port.-ilioii! 

^'eus.vii.lks gave me a pleasant idea 
it the environs. The railway carriage 
li ul two stories, and so an imobstructed 
\ I -w was had of the valley of the Seine, 
\\ all its charming chateaux, vineyards and 
flower gardens This ride, like other trijis from Havre, Dieppe, 
Rouen, and also in the south of France, furnished swift yet sugges- 
tive pictures of rural life in different districts. The substantial rail- 
roads, grand siadiicls and bridges everywhere present a contrast to 
many seen in America. 

To tell of the Palace of Yersailles, its paintings, its statues, its 
gardens and parks, and the associations awakened in the mind of a 
historic dreanier, language fails. S&vres, St. Cloud and Fontaiue- 
bleau are full of interest, yet you may spend months in Paris, 
visiting her libraries, studios, churches, galleries, political, liter- 
ary and religious centres, and only imperfectly explore her treas- 
ures. 

One should, of roiir-r. 1h- .ililc lo -in-.-ik Kn-ncli \,, fully profit 




THE LOimtE 



by a visit long or short. One poor man of inquisitive mind, 
but knowing only English, wandered about Paris one day ask- 
ing questions of all sorts, onlj' to receive the uniform shrug and 
' ' Je ne aais pas. " As the day waned, a funeral passed and the prying 
quidnunc stopped a stranger with the question, "Who's dead?" 
" Je ne sais ijrn." "Is he really? Good! He has troubled me all 
day; I'm glad he's gone!" 



OITTDOOR LIFE m EUROffi; 



On *d BKtlSSELS; 

Going froni Paris t5 Bi'ussels; I noted St. Ijcnis, the burial-place 
of French kings; Amiens; whore the treaty of 1802 was concluded 
liotween England and France j Valenciennes, on the Scheldt and 
Quievrain, wiiere customs are collected; Mons, strongly fortified, 




TRILMPHAL ARCH OF L ETOILE 

and Braine le Compte, built by Brennus in Csesar's day. The 
Belgio capital is called a miniature Paris, and my first impressions 
"Were very favorable, although I was much mortified in entering a 
French hotel, and putting in French tlie usual queries about ac- 
commodation, to be answered in good English 1 I was well housed 
and cared for, nor did the Duchess of Richmond, with "sound of 
revehy bj^ night, " disturb our slumbers, as on the eve of Waterloo, 
wlien " all went merry as a marriage bell," and joy was unconfined. 

" The midnight brought the signal sound of strife. 
The morn the marshalling in arms — the day. 
Battle's magnificently stern array ! 
The tlmuder-clouds close o'er it * * 
Rider and horse, friend, foe — in one red Ijurial blent!" 

The visitor to-day in Brussels will find, as in Paris, the old quarters 
and the new^ ; the palace of the king and park ; breezy boulevards and 
gay cafes; museums and theatres, and its bloody memories of revo- 
lutions with which Motlej' makes us familiar. The spire of the 
Hotel de Villp, 370 feet high, commands a view of the field of 
Waterloo. Its banqueting liall and gallery of pictures should not be 
missed. The lace and carpet factories are not devoid of interest. 
Pictures of the Flemish school abound, naturalistic rather than ideal, 
meritorious in some technicalities of art rather than its intellectual 
or profoundlj'' spiritual characteristics. Passing through Mechlin, 
you think of her thread-lace, and damask, and at Louvain of the 
great university, attended once by 6000 students. Jansenius, the Au- 
gustinian i-eformer, was professor there in 1630. Liege is the Bir- 
mingham of Belgium. Its old palace is the scene of " Quentin Dur- 
waud " by Scott, and full of attractiveness to the antiquary. The 
influence of the rich, proud merchants of the middle ages was seen 
in art as well as in commerce, as the costly Hotels de ville testif}^ So 
in the matter of attire. Velvet coats, trimmed with gold and rare 
furs, were worn by the haughty Hansards. A deputation once 
waited on Charles V. They took off their rich robes to sit on, as the 
benches were wood. AVhen they turned to go out, a valet reminded 
them that they had left their outer garments on the seats. "We are 
not wont to carry away our cushions with us I" was the scornful re- 
sponse. These burghers loved literature, too. Their Chambers of 
Rhetoric and dramatic moralization showed the taste of the guild. 



AntwekP. 
Antweri* is but 28 iniles from Brussels. The pen and pencil of 
Fau-lioU had longago whetted appetite for what is here to be enjoyed 
in iirl and liistoric romance. Many of the early art-treasures were 
destroyed in the days of the Duke of Alva and Philip II., " monsters 
of cold-hearted ferocity," as Motley calls them. The history of the 
town is one of conflict from the beginning. Its name, Hand-werpen 
— " to cast a hand " — records the tradition of the giant Antigon, who 
ciit off the hand of every mariner who refused tribute as he entered 
the Scheldt. One of Caesar's officers, Brabant, is said to have 
(TOhtiuisred him and built the city, hence the Seignorj' Brabant. At 
present the matei'ial prosperity of Antwerp is rapidly increasing, 
its commerce extends, elegant buildings are erected, new boulevards 
and parks opened, and the American street cars ai'e running. But 
society is not free from the fetters of ignorance and priestcraft. The 
enjoyment of the works of art is marred by seeing them made 
" ecclesiastical peep-shows. " The mellow sweetness of the Cathedral 
bells cannot make us forget that Castilian butchers, in by -gone days, 
were slaying thousands of citizens, while these bells rang on merrily 
as ever, and others suffered a longer death under the tortures of the 
Inquisition, the engine of the same hierarchy which still exerts its 
withering influence on the people there. The cells, bolts and chains 
of tlie dungeons are yet shown, and the holes in the arched roof 
through which the voice of the tortured reached the scribe above, 
who recorded what had been wrung from the martyr. You also see 
the aperture in the stony floor through which the dying or dead were 
thrown into a deep pit beneath the prisons. At Bruges the bloody 
banner of the Inquisition is preserved, crimson in color, as is meet, 
and edged with gold fringe. The forms of Jesus and his Mother, and 
angels, are represented on the faded satin, a ghastly satire, when the 
diabolical scenes ai'e recalled in connection with which this was 
used. 

THK lIOirE OF RtTBENS. 

The name of Rubens gives a glory to this Belgian city which the 
people are not slow to acknowledge. His sumptuous mansion 
was erected after his marriage in 1609, at a cost of 60,000 florins. 
His studio, like the rotunda of the Pantheon, had a single light in 
the dome that set off with peculiar effect his marbles, intaglios and 
antique curiosities. The chair he used is now kept in the picture 
gallerj^ and bears the date 1633. He died in 1640. His "Descent 
from the Cross" is a masterpiece of art, before which the greatest 
painters have .stood with wondering admiration. What Titian's art 
wixa to Venice, or Michael Angelo's to Rome, Rubens' work is to 
Antwerp. His princely, prodigal genius, so exuberant. Joyous, and 
thoroughly human, has charmed the lovers of material beauty and 
brilliant realistic art. His pictures are an emphatic outflow of him- 
self, as Jarves has said, full of intense life, vehement movement and 
amorous ardor, "poured on his canvas as if from a conjurer's inex- 
haustible bottle. He is jovial, sen,suous, handsome, magnificent, a 
zealous Catholic with liberal instincts, and despising asceticism." 
That Antwerp should devote $90,000 and ten days to the commem- 
oration of Rubens' birth is proof of something more than mere 
sentimentality. When the fine arts are better appreciated in 
iVmerica, there will be founded institutions for art culture, and 
galleries for the exhibition of those artistic productions which are a 
credit to the higher instincts of any people. Real art-education, it 
is said, did not begin in England till 1851. America does well to 
care first for " the coarse arts," to use Theodore Parker's phrase— as 
the ancient Etruscan first sought good air, water, drainage and 
crops. The mind and soul are, however, more than the body, and 
spiritual ideas more than mere animal satisfaction. 

Next to Titian stands Vandyke, the pupil of Rubens. Says Allan 
Cunningham, "No one has equalled him in manly dignity. His 
portraits are likely to remain the wonder of all nations." David 
Teniers, another pupil, and his son, of the same name, were also na- 
tives of Antwerp. In one painting by the younger Teniers are 1138 
figures. One can spend many days in the Museum, churches and 
cathedral studying art, or perhaps with more profit in the busy 
streets, studying real life at the market-place, where bright, clean, 
ruddy Fremish women gather mth all sorts of ware; where butch 
er, drajTnen, baker and milkmaid meet; along the docks, and down 
the Scheldt, where ships of all nations float; in the Zoological Gar- 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



dens, unsurpassed on the Continent, and among the silk weavers. 
Yet most of tourists, lilce myself, have tarried but a day, which is 
better than to omit it. The melody of those bells is itself an inspira- 
tion. " Great Carolus" weighs 16,000 pounds, nearly as much as 
Great Tom of Oxford, Sixteen stalwart men are required to ring 
it. There are 98 brazen companions of varying sizes, a sweet carillon, 
that for 350 years, from dawn to dark, has pealed forth mellow 
musi?, high, airy and melodious, above the discords of the street. 

" Through the balmy air of night 
How they ring out tlieir delight I 
Then from out their sounding shells 
"What a gush of euphonj' voluminously swells!" 

Once heard, they haunt the imagination forever. 



CHAPTER V. 

HOLLAND AI^D GERMAI^T. 

ROTTERDAM. 

"That is Holland! Don't you see that spire?" I rubbed my 
eyes, but gave it up. Soon out of the sea there rose a faint line, 
like a low cloud, and then sandbanks and windmills appeared. Ten 
hours from Harwich. It was a pleasant morning, that 39th of July, 
1879. The Custom House officer reminded us of our "duties" in a 
tongue which I could not understand. I simply opened my satchel, 
and, to what seemed an inquiry, venturedan English "No." "Sut it 
up," said Blue Coat, as he pasted the words "Gezien; gi-en regten 
betaald " on the outside — "Seen; no duty paid." At 9 a.m. we 
reached Rotterdam. 

Leaving luggage at the station, I made a beginning of the day's 
perambulations by going to the Groote Markt and the "House of 
the Thousand Terrors." Declining the aid of guides, who knew 
English no better than I knew Dutch, by simply repeating the word 
"Erasmus," with upward inflection, and pointing onward — watching 
at the same time the answering hand — I soon came to the bronze 
statue of the great theologian, opposite which was the first of 
Rotterdam's historical relics presented to my view — a quaint old 
corner house, built centuries ago. 

HOUSE OF THE THOUSAND TERRORS. 

When Spanish murderers deluged the town with blood in 1573, 
several hundreds took refuge in this building. Having closed the 
heavy window-shutters and barricaded the door, they killed a kid and 
let the crimson stream flow out over the threshold. Seeing the blood, 
the red-handed marauders concluded that the work of butchery had 
been finished, and passed by the place. I entered, and found that 
the ground floor was occupied as a haberdasher's shop. Outside, in 
the square, the hucksters made a tempting display of strawberries 
and raspberries, which they sold for a few pennies per quart. They 
found me a ready purchaser, for the quality of the fruit was ex- 
cellent. 

DUTCH CUSTOMS. 

Do you see that melancholy man, in sable habiliments and black 
cocked hat? He is the ghostly messenger of death — "Annsprecker," 
undertaker's man — carrjang funeral announcements to friends and 
kinsmen. In some towns, silk-covered cushions in the windows 
tell of births. If red lace or paper is displayed, a boy has arrived; 
if white, a girl. Immunities from civil suits are granted for some 
days, and also special quiet secured for the mother. Bulletins are 
posted daily in the window where there is sickness, informing friends 
of the condition of the sufferer. 

Dutch dress is droll, particularly the huge wooden shoes worn 
l)y man and maid — " ferry boats" rather than fairy boots — and, what 
is stranger still, gilded shells or helmets fitted to female skulls, with 
.■-mall wires twisted into a horn or conical rat-trap shape, pushing out 
from under the whitest and stiffest of lace caps. A basket of flowers 
is sometimes fixed to the top of the hair. Nothing more quaint and 
odd is anywhere to be seen than the varied headgear of the women. 
You are diverted, too, by the picturesque old canals, with the strange 
vessels and barges, with their occupants. What studies for a painter! 
The sails have perhaps been soaked in a decoction of oak bark, as 



those of Hebridean fishermen. They lie in puffy heaps upon the 
deck. A huge wing or paddle is fastened on either side. A woman 
may be seen holding the long crooked rudder top, or more likely 
dashing her soap and water about the deck; for, of all people, the 
Hollanders do most love to scrub and scour. Street and pavement, 
floor and window, pot and kettle, face and hands proclaim the fact. 
Everybody knows that they are a church-going people ; but public 
worship is not more esteemed than private wash-up. 

If you wish to see Dutch cleanliness run mad, says Fairhold, 
you must visit Broeck, four miles out of Amsterdam. You walk 
into this village, for horses and carriages are not allowed. Even 
Alexander the Emperor was obhged to take oS his .shoes before 
entering a house. A pile of wooden shoes is seen at doors. They 
cost from threepence a pair upwards, and sometimes are lined with 
list. A patten is often secured to horses' feet, making him web- 
footed. Both these clumsjf appendages are needed in a soft, boggy 
soO, which in some places sinks six inches a year — besides sinking 
a deal of money. It would seem hard to keep up courage where 
everything sinks excepting taxes; these are very high. The ancient 
coat of arms of the province of Zealand is a lion half swallowed in 
the sea, with the motto, " Luctor et emerge " (" I struggle to keep 
above water "). In 1825, Amsterdam came within fifteen minutes 
of being overwhelmed. The tides conspired with the Rhine and the 
Meuse, and the great dykes were all but covered. As it was, it took 
two years to repair the damage. The houses of Broeck are only 
entered by the back door. The steps are removed from the front 
door. This entrance is used but at births, bm-ials, and marriages. 
" Nothing can exceed the brightness of the paint, the polished tiles 
on the roof, or the perfect freedom from dirt exhibited by the cot- 
tages. The rage for keeping all tidy even tampers with the dearest 
of a Dutchman's treasures, his pipe, for it is stipulated that he wear 
over it a wire network, to prevent the ashes from falling on the 
footpaths." 

Dutch dairies deserve notice. Holland lias been termed the Para- 
dise of Cows. They yield more milk, richer in quality and better 
adapted for butter and cheese making, than almost any breed in the 
world. The cattle are white and black, well shaped, trim, shorter ■ 
horned than Durham, large framed, and very gentle. Yet in 
milking the cow the hind legs as well as tail are tied. 

A Dutch market-place is both bewildering and bewitching, par- 
ticularly at night, when the blazing flambeaux and bawling voices 
ai-e suggestive of Bedlam. Not only are fruits, vegetables, fish, and 
other kinds of food for sale, but clothing, books, diy goods, hard- 
ware, and all kinds of merchandise. Most of the venders can say 
"Sixpence," or some simple English word indicative of price, so 
that, with the pantomime to aid, the purchase is easily effected if 
you wish to buy. 

The trams were new and elegant. Unlike the American street 
cars, the alaiTn bell was fastened to the car instead of the horse. 
The driver pulled it when turning a corner or approaching a team. 
The seats were covered with red velvet cushions, and three large 
fixed glass sashes made the sides. Riding out into the suburbs I saw 
the residences of the wealthier people, with parks and ponds and 
shady avenues. Flowering plants adorned the windows, and the 
itinerant musician, as at home, pursued his vocation in the streets 
and court-yards. 

From the boomjes (Ijoom-kis) a steamer runs up ten miles to 

THE TOWN OP DORT. 

DoRT is an ancient town sm-rounded by windmills and living by 
the timber trade. Its narrow streets and antique houses with nod- 
ding fronts are said to be most thoroughly representative of any 
Dutch city. The historic memories of the great Synod in 1618; of 
the Assemblies of the States of Holland; a view of the spot where, 
under a linden tree that fronted an old doelen or military rendezvous, 
the reformers first preached in 1573; and a visit to the birthplaces 
of Cuyp and Ary Scheffer, will repay the tom-ist for a few hours' 
delay. I regret that I did not tarry, but utter ignorance of the 
language, as well as a long itineraiy before me, prevented. This little 
island of Dort is Holland proper. Holt-land or wooded land, the first 
settlers coming here in the early centuries and redeeming the district 
from the sea. The windmills saw wood, grind grain, and drain the 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN BUROPE. 



23 



I'cmntrj' ot water by rifting it to higher conduits which empty the 
siiperfliioiis water into the sea when the tide allows. It is a marvel 
wnere in this tame, tiat and monotonous region, Cuyp got materials 
nud inspiration to paint his golden sunsets, his gems of landscape 
■icenery that in aerial perspective, delicacy, and Venetian warmth of 
color have won for him the epithet of the Dutch Claude Lon-aine 
His moonlight pictures and winter scenes arc wonderful and cntirelj' 
iif'tei nature, mostly m and about Dort. AMiolly different was the 
spiritual genius of Ary SchefFer, whose Christus Consolator, Dante 
and Beatrice, and Faust are widely known and universally admired. 
Xor could I give the haunts of Rembrandt about Lej'den the atten- 
tion they deserved The history of this miller's boy is a poem, from 
the hour when he watched the stray sunbeam that pierced the roof 
of his father's null, and learned how to mingle sombre shade and 
vivid sunlight Without the austere severity of Ruysdael he puts 
gr'andeur as well as grace into his compositions. Nor was he govern- 




ed by moods and caprice. He was untiringly iDdu.strious. Fairholt 
tells of a holiday dinner to which the painter was invited. After 
lieing seated at the table, a servant was sent to procure some mustard 
at a shop not far away Rembrandt wagered witii his host, a burgo- 
master of Amsterdam, that he would etch the view from the win- 
dow before the servant returned. He did it. The plate was sold 
in 1844 for about ninety dollars, and is known as the "mustard pot." 

The patience as well as industry of some of the Dutch artists is 
illustrated in Gerard Douw, who was willing to spend three days 
in painting a broom that stood in a corner of one of his pictures. 

Let no one miss of seeing Delft, with its relics of the Prince of 
Orange, Haarlem in the Arcadia, and Leyden with its memories of a 
siege, 1574, terrible like that of Londonderry, in which thousands 
succumbed, and interesting as the resting-place of the Pilgrim Fath- 
ers in 1609. I had a ticket from Rotterdam to Amsterdam tlirough 
these places, but owing to General Ignorance — an uncomfortable 
companion — I got on a train at Gonda Junction which took mo by 
Utrecht instead Nowhere in Europe did Gen. I. give me more an- 
noyance. 

The Hague, according to Lord Chesterfield, is ' ' the most delight- 
ful city in Europe." Seeing this gay court city under the most 
fortunate circumstances, when its palaces and Houses of Parlia 
ment, its churches and aristocratic mansions, its gardens, parks and 
squares were bright with .sunshine, when the balmy air had drawn 
the people into the streets, and when the watering season was at its 
height, filling Scheveningen with crowds of pleasure seekers, I 
was almost ready to endorse the sentiment. A ride of twenty 
minutes along shady avenues of oak and lime trees brought me to 
this sea-side resort, the Brighton of Holland, where William III. 
was l)orn in 1817, and the point from which Charles II. embarked to 
resume the sovereignty of England. Twenty-four hours before, I 
was standing amid the afternoon bathers at Brighton, England. 



Only four hours by rail to Harv.'icli and a few more by steamer to 
Rotterdam had intervened. The appropriateness of the comparison 
was therefore quite apparent. The view of the ocean, the beach, 
hotels and visitors m either case had no special novelty, and so my 
stay was short. 

A DUTCH VENICE. 

.\_msterdam I reached before tea, and rode at once to the Amstel 
House, one of the most spacious and elegant hotels fcn the Continent. 
I chose a comfortable, airy room in the upper story, commanding a 
delightful prospect of the cit}', which is built on 95 islands, joined 
by 290 bridges, of the river Amstel and the Zuyder Zee. A full 
moon added to the beauty of the outlook at night, while countless 
gaslights flashed up and down the avenues and along the quays 
built by its crescent bay. I enjoyed refreshing slumbers in these 
princely quarters, and was not disturbed by noisy gong or intrusive 
servant, or by the street- watchman, who 

" Brealcs your rest to tell you what's o'clock," 

and rattles a huge clapper of wood, perhaps to warn away the rogues. 
For my room, with attendance and use of the library, and other lux- 
uries, the charge was but seventy-five cents. 

Amsterdam is called the Dutch 'Venice. It is built on piles driven 
into bog and loose sand; for the Town House foundations 13,000 
were used. Erasmus was right in saying that the town was built on 
tree-tops. Some of the buildings seem to be in a thoroughly inebri- 
ated condition, and more than one has sunk into the muddy depths. 
Solidity and strength, however, characterize the old structures along 
the Kalverstrasse. The ponderous frame, the heavy staircase, the 
carved door and panelled room are made to last for centuries. The 
gate of St. Anthony was built 400 years ago, and marks the spot 
where the ancient scaffold stood. 

This city is more grotesque, cheerful, and lively than Venice. 
The throl) of a bus}' population of 300,000, its commercial and man- 
ufacturing life, its excellent educational institutions, its schools of 
art, and its conspicuous charities, give a vitality and charm to 
Amsterdam that the silent city on the Adriatic does not possess. 
The learned Jew Spinoza was born here. He was at first regarded 
an atheist, and was banished by the magistrates, at the request of his 
countrymen. There are now about 20,000 resident Jews, and a visit 
to their quarter is entertaining. The galleries of paintings, the 
zoological gardens, the tombs of De Ruyter and Rembrandt, the 
Palace, with its icy splendor and grim trophies of martial glory, the 
museums and Industrial Palace furnish enough materials of interest 
to hold the stranger for weeks. But here, as everjrwhere else, out- 
door life was most attractive to me. 

STREETS OF AJI8TERDA3I. 

On my first ramble about the city, I chanced to meet a gentleman 
"-ho spoke English and German as well as Dutch, and he brought 
me to the money-changer's oflBce. Having secured the small coin of 
the country, I took my chocolate at an Italian cafe, and then, note- 
book in hand, began ni}' enjoyable solitary meanderings. At one 
place I sat down on a stone step by one of the canals to rest, to write, 
and to watch the teeming, swarming, ever-moving, and cheerful 
crowds. The day's work was done, and the laborer and artisan were 
homeward bound. The barges dropped silently down the fiea-green 
stream towards the outer dykes, pushed or pulled by swarthy, kindly- 
looking boatmen ; clean and ruddy dames with spotless caps sat in 
the doorway at this sunset hour; a group of juvenile Dutchmen 
behind me made the air ring with their untranslatable ejaculations, 
as they 'played their game of ball in the angle of antique church 
walls, while in more quiet sport younger sisters were plajdng with 
household pets by the carved doorway of their gabled, narrow- 
windowed, red-brick dwellings. One of these feminine Holland- 
ers, who held a tiny baby that was neatly clad and had a white knit 
cap on its head, came and shared the seat with mo. Soon after, two 
or three more little ones, bright, clean, smiling, came nestling iip, 
and sat like a family group around my grandfatherly knees. No- 
body spoke a word, for, strange to say, nobody could command 
language adequate to the occasion. To complete the tableau, a 
pretty brown spaniel, who seemed to act as escort and guard of the 
children, approached aud deliberately smelt of the Yankee, and gave 



u 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUKOPE. 



Lis mse in a wag of the tail and a pleasant nod, as if to say to his 
youtliful charge: "That stranger is all right; he won't hurt you." 
Relying on the accuracy of his inspection, these little Amster- 
damonians looked trustfully up to me, with theii' eyes all full of 
questions, though their lips were still. 

INTERNATIONAL COURTESIES. 

While I was taking a lunch, three well-to-do children, apparently 
sisters, came to the same small table. The eldest, about 13, had a 
vial of perfumery, from which in turn she poured on each handker- 
chief: These Dutch flowers needed no fragrance, for they were 
siich as Rubens or the genial Paul Potter might have selected to 
garnish his canvas; but they evidently enjoj'cd the saturation, and 
tlung smiling glances at me in swift succession. As the youngest 
received her portion, she whispered something to her sister, who 
instantly, by look and gesture, gracefully requested the pleasure of 
extending international courtesies to one whom she, with quick 
instinct, must have known to be an American abroad. These are 
trifling but very pleasant episodes, fragrant memories of meetings 
and greetings, where the loquaci inanu and still more eloquent eye 
are the only channels of thought and emotion. In the days of 
Augustus the pantomime was brought to its greatest perfection. The 
tell-tale hand and face held audiences for hours. By ' ' pictures in 
the air," among the early Indians, one could travel from Hudson's 
Bay to the Gulf of Mexico. There were only six, of the 150 signs 
used, which were not at once evident.* At Venice, when the gon- 
dolier took mj' franc, he showed that he wanted a half franc more 
by simply drawing his hand edgewise through the scrip, and then 
extending an empty hand, while he held what he had received in the 
other. 

In one of the narrow streets of Amsterdam I noticed that, in order 
to wash the upper windows in a very higli house, a fire-brigade 
ladder, jointed to the height of 50 feet, had been wheeled up to the 
building. What a blessing it would be if the Dutch mania for 
cleanliness could be somehow communicated to the street commis- 
sioners of New York and other American cities! 

Coffee, I noticed, was spelled Koffie; the word for watchmaker, 
Horloguer; and exchange, Beurs, like the French Bourse. Car 
tickets were sold at a discount by street speculators, as in other 
lands; and many other customs have been imported by the thou- 
sands from over the sea who are tramping through the highways and 
by-ways of Continental travel. When railway officials come to 
understand English it will be better for all concerned. Very few do. 
One in Rotterdam told me that he was living in Chicago at the time 
of the great fire. He was of great service to me in securing luggage, 
the receipt of which was lost. Between Rotterdam and Antwerp a 
careless conductor tore out two leaves of my coupons instead of one. 
The train was in rapid motion. He was climbing along the outside 
from carriage to carriage, stepping on the narrow plank over the 
wheels, and thrusting his head and arms through the window of each 
door, an awkward and dangerous way of collecting fares. It was 
nearly dark, and though I saw his blunder, it was useless to protest 
in English or French. In a wink away he went! Of course another 
ticket must be bought. 

r'TTGITITE GLANCES. 

From Amsterdam to Cologne is a distance of perhaps 170 miles. 
The trip is made between noon and sunset. Rapid glances were 
given to town and village, as we rode away from a land which is 
rightly called terra incognita to most of foreign travellers, yet which 
is full of attractiveness to a well-read visitor There you notice an 
old hostelry, with a vine-clad doorway, gabled roof, and nest of the 
petted stork on the ridge This bird is supposed to bring luck, and 
no one dares to molest her She cares for her young with great 
afEection, and has been known to cany water in her beak to quench 
the fire that threatened her nest. At Delft, a mother-bird, finding it 
impossible to rescue her brood, sat down on the nest, spread her 
wings over her brood, and perished with them in the flames. The 
name of the stork in Hebrew signifies "mercy," apparently given on 



*Thwing's "Drill Book in Vocal Culture and Gesture," 91-111 
pp. I. K. Funk & Co., New York: S. W Partridge & Co., London 



account of this uniform fldelity to its dam, even to death. In fi-ont 
of the inn, perhaps, you may notice a pole from which the archers 
shoot the popinjay. You see, too, odd farai gates, square haj'stacks, 
triangular trees, and clean cow-stalls, where even the tail is loosely 
tied to the ceiling to keep it clean! A sack is put on her ladyship in 
cold weather, like those of tender gre3'hounds in other lands. Those 
horses make you think of Wouverman's admirable pictures of this 
animal. The horses of the drayman, sportsman, carrier, or soldier 
which he painted are hardly equalled. That bed of tulips, of which 
you catch a sniff as the train hurries by, recalls the tulip-trade which 
in 1635 monopolized all the other industries of Holland. Tlie rarest 
root sold for 5500 florins, and many persons were known to invest a 
fortune of 100,000 florins in the purchase of forty roots. Fortunes 
were lost in the gambling speculations known as tulip sales. Hya- 
cinth bulbs are still sent all over Europe. When the wind is off- 
shore, "the balsamic odor of the hyacinth" and other flowers has 
been detected. The anemone, it is recorded, was first carried hither 
to England, by a man who only succeeded in getting the seed from 
the stingy proprietor by brushing against the plant a shaggy great- 
coat, worn for the purpose. He thus secreted the precious deposit, 
and went his way rejoicing. That herring sign, made of a flower 
garland and colored paper, is an announcement of the arrival of this 
fish on the Dutch coast. The herring is a panacea for every com- 
plaint. 

Jan Steen two hundred years ago saved from oblivion many 
of these quaint pictures of domestic life. He was a Holbein and a 
Burns in one. Coming home from one of his midnight revels at 
Jan's tavern, the painter Mieris once fell into a dyke and was nearly 
drowned. A cobbler, who rescued him, was surprised to see his 
velvet doublet and gold buttons. The grateful painter gave him a 
picture, which he sold for 800 florins. That was probably the only 
gold fish that he ever found in those muddy canals. 

UTRECHT AND ARNHEIM. 

We stop a few minutes at Utrecht, to which Gen. Ignorance 
before misled me. It is famous for the treaty which (1718) secured 
in England a Protestant succession; also for its university and vel- 
vets. Passing through Arnheim, I noticed the pleasant balconies at 
the rear of dwellings, and cosey groups sitting under striped 'awn- 
ings on piazzas below, enjoying an afternoon siesta. In this old 
Roman town the English knight, scholar, and poet, Sir Philip Sid- 
ney, died, 1586, of a wound received at Zutphen. I tried to get 
some refreshment by the way ; but station after station was passed, 
with no stop for food or for other bodily needs. 

At Elten the kind German conductor, to whom I had made plain- 
tive cry, with emphatic gesture across the gastronomic territory, 
indicative of hunger, said; "Kom mit me." Taking hold of the 
lapel of my coat, he led me through the room of customs, into a 
restaurant, and introduced me to a smiling Teuton, who at once 
held out a bottle of Bordeaux wine. That was altogether too tonic 
for m}^ temperance principles. Not recalling the German for tee- 
totalism, Maine law, and cognate expressions, I simply made request 
for coffee, without attempting, in my famished state, any argument 
as to liquors. 

At the banks of the Rhine, the railway carriages plunged into the 
water, and were submerged nearly up to the platforms, running into 
scows, in which, by iron chain, we were drawn over the muddy 
stream. Another plunge into the water, and the train was soon 
on the track on the western shore. 

Cologne, though not as disagreeable as Coleridge would have us 
believe, is more interesting for its historical associations than for 
any present attractions. It took its name from Colonia Agrippina, 
the mother of Nero having been born here, and still reflects some- 
thing of Italian life. The Carnival is one feature, and the popish 
superstitions form another, of the life of the modern city. Hither, 
we are told, a fleet of British .ships carrying 11,000 virgins was 
driven by tempest up the Rhine, whereupon the barbaric Huns at 
Cologne slew them all in one massacre. Their bones and those of 
the adoring Magi — their names traced in rubies on their skulls — make 
some of the many peep-shows to which curious ones are admitted 
for a proper consideration. After 633 years' delay, the great cathe- 
dral seems approaching completion. ^ 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROt'E. 



COtOGKE" CATHEDRA!,. 



" Unfinished there in higii niid-aii- 
The towers halt like a'broken praj'er; 
Through years belated, unconsiimmated, 
The liope of its architect quite frustrated." 

So many pens have written of the solemn beauty of its lengthened 
aisles, its wondrous choii- and uplifting arches, of its shadowy 
chapel, its sculptured tombs and sacred relics, that nothing need be 
added. "When I visited Cologne in 1855, the train stopped outside 
the city, but now the tourist is landed near the cathedral. There 
are zoological gardeu.s, museums and picture galleries for those who 
care to tarry long enough to enrich the natives, including a score of 
"original" Eau de Cologne manufacturers. Hood has written, 
" Take care of your pocket, take care of your pocket, don't wash or 
be shaved; go like hairy wild men, wear a cap and smock-frock." 
It is suggested that the hardci of the Rhine are the magnificent hotels, 
as considerable money is deposited in them. The word Dampschiffe! 
steamboat, is suggestive of damp sheets, not unknown to travellers 
by water. Hood's attempts to get along with English were as unsat- 
isfactory as some have been since his day. Wishing chicken broth 
made, his wife pointed to a poultry yard opposite, where the feathery 
facts were patent to all. " Ya, ya, sic bringen fedders!" In fort}'- 
five minutes the servant returned triumphantly with two bundles of 
stationers' quills! Rather dry eating. A correspondent of a New 
York journal wrote home, that he, being ignorant of every tongue 
but English, once got on a boat at Coblentz going down to Cologne, 
instead of up the Rhine to Mayence, as he supposed. He rushed to 
the edge of the deck, tossed his portmanteau ashore, and was about 
to leap, when he was held back by ji sailor. He was put ashore in a 
boat at the first village, which was but a dozen mud huts; was 
soaked in a drizzling rain ; laughed at by those who could not un- 
derstand his agonizing pantomimes; charged two thalers for the 
bench of a noisy, malodorous beer-shop on which he rested his bones 
during the night; poured a .steady stream of groscheu into the hands 
of the keeper of the den to signalize and stop the next upward 
bound steamer, and finally was returned to Coblentz, to find his 
lug-gage and to start again right. So much for Gen. Ignorance. 
Neither of my vi.sits abroad furnished any such experiences, and 
everywhere, save in Holland, English and French did service at 
least in meeting absolute needs. The day spent on the Rhine was 
made particularly pleasant by the companionship of American 
friends, met on the steamer, on their way to Switzerland. If one 
had to hasten his movements, a trip down the river with the tide is 
preferable to the slow passage up against it. 



3b 

there, with other celebrities of the University. At KOuigswiuter, 

above the ripening corn and vine your eye rests on " the castled crag 

of Drachenfels." The seven mountain,?, Rolandseck and Nonncii^ 

werth, follow. While your thoughts linger on the bloody tale of 

, Drachenblut, or the pleasanter story of the beautiful Hildegunde, 

j Oberwiuter, Ardenaeh and Neuwid appear. Now you reach the 

I blue Moselle, and Coblentz with its breezy promenades, its fragrant 

lime trees, shady avenues, and massive bridge leading to the base of 

I Ehrenbreitstein, the Gibraltar of the Rhine, on which an "iron 

' shower for years" once fell in vain, a fortress which famine or gold 

' alone can gain. At that old church of St. Castor the grandsons of 

j Charlemagne met to divide the empire in 843. Prince Metternich 

I a,ud Henrietta Sontag were born here. Now the royal castle of 

Stolzenfels, the fortress of Marksburg, and two others called 

"Brothers," are seen. The guide-books will outline, at least, the 

story of Lady Geraldine. 

OUTDOOR TOn,ERS. 

Notice the luxuriant cherry orchards; the abundant wheat fields; 
the grassy banks on which the snowy cloths are laid to dry and 
whiten; the mower and reaper; the women binding the sheaves, and 
the vinedresser pruning his vines that they may bring forth more 
fruit; the smiling chateaux, as well as lordly mansion built with 
foreign gold; the grotesque sim dials on the houses; the countless 
images of the Crucified and shrines of the Virgin by the roadside. 
Here comes down a floating house on a rude raft, where people live 
month after month, as on Western waters. There rises one of tlie 
grandest ruins of feudal days, Rhinefels, near by the fierce and foam- 
ing rapids where the fabled maiden sat on the rocks at the evening 
hour and lured the boatmen to destruction by her song. ShOnburg 
frowns on the stronghold below, in midstream, where blackmail 
was levied by robber chiefs in olden time. It is eight o'clock. The 
moon is up. The glory of the day is followed by the solemn beauty 
of the night. 

BINGEN ON THE KIUNE. 



THE STOKIED RHINE. 

Of the enticing beauty and lofty grandeur of the storied Rhine, 
poets and painters have given ample descriptions. Nature here i.s 
' ' negligently grand. " Here is seen 

" The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom 
The forest's growth and Gothic wails between. 
The wild rock. >li,,|.,.,l as thev had turrets been. 
In mockery of niair.s ;ij| ; and these withal 
A race of faces happy as the scene 
Whose fertile bounties here extend to all, 
Still springing o'er its banks, tho' empires near them fall." 

The dark story of feudal times, when knights and barons and rob- 
ber chiefs met in sanguinary strife; the record of later battles that 
have reddened the Rhine and added new memories to its romantic 
past; the traditions that linger about the old convents and castles- 
fairy tales and songs of troubadour; hymns of priest and nun - le<^ends 
of the mountain and the glen still told by humble peasants-'all'these 
give a charm to the region which the scenery alone, grand though it 
is, never would possess without them. 

The day was balmy and bright. The August heat felt on shore 
was cooled by the breeze we met or made. Delicious ice-creams 
cherries, peaches, and other fruits, were served on deck. Steamers! 
barges and rafts passed us, and at every turn of the river new 
changes of scenery were made in the panorama of valley and moun- 
tain, vUlage and city. At Bonn you think of Beethoven, who was 
born there, of Niebuhr, who died there, and of Lange, who lives 



Here we leave the boat to catch a train that will bring us to Hei- 
delberg before we sleep. At the railway station I soberly asked a 
young man, who seemed to be a resident, if he had ever heard of a sol- 
dier of the Legion who once " lay dying at Algiers," and who made 
frequent mention of "loved Bingen," "calm Bingen," "dear Bin- 
gen on the Rhine." Strange to say, he could not recall any circum- 
.stance of the kind, at least among the young men of his acquaintance 
in the town, nor had he ever heard of Mrs. Norton or of her grand- 
father, the brilliant Sheridan. Foiled in this, I repressed my curi- 
osity as to Archbishop Hatto, formerly a retired clergyman in that 
neighborhood, who once made a corner in grain and got cornered 
himself in a small tower which I had just passed, indeed was eaten 
up by mice, if Southey speaks the truth. A few minutes' ride by 
rail and Mayence is reached. The tomb of Mrs. Charlemagne; the 
house marked "Hof zum Gensfleisch," where Guttenburg was born; 
the battle-scarred cathedral and the crumbling tower erected by a 
Roman legion before the days of Christ— these and other sights we 
had to pass by. Across the winding Rhine, through "The Garden 
of Germany," we were whirled along at great speed till Darmstadt 
was reached, which, it will be remembered, was the last home of the 
lamented Princess Alice. The golden light lingered in the west, and 
the rising moon flooded the earth with beauty. To complete the 
picture, far aAvay over the forests of fir there rose a leaden cloud of 
fantastic shape, now and then, as it were, fringed with fire, as vivid 
lightning flashed behind and through its piled-up masses. Another 
hour brought us to the valley of the Neckar. " The hour when 
church-yards yawn" found me safely housed in the luxurious Hotel 
de L'Europe, Heidelberg. The mercury by day had marked 83°, 
but the dewy coolness of the night made even a blanket comfortable. 
Our rest was undisturbed by student song or shout of reveller, for it 
was the time of midsummer vacation. 

HEIDELBERG. 

We i-ode by the university buildings the next day. They wore a 
deserted look. It would have been pleasant to have visited the 
library, which numbers near a quarter of a million volumes, the cab- 
inets, laboratories and museums, but not a book did we see, not a 



26 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



grave professor or a single rollicking college man, with his jaunty, 
vizorless cap of red or gi-een. Our driver took us in view of the 
gorge on the opposite banks where duelling parties have had their 
encounters, half a dozen a day sometimes. The castle was soon 
reached. Turenne's cannon, the thunderbolt and "the tooth of time" 
have spoiled its beauty, yet as one studies the exquisite mouldings 
and sculptures, the flutings and draperies and garlands, the fruits 
and flowers, faces of man and bird and beast, rosettes and arabesques 
■carved out of stone with wondrous skill, he cannot but be charmed 
with what remains of this Alhambra of Germany. Yes, 

"The splendor falls on castle walls," 

and crumbling ruins ' ' old m story, " not merely that of the .sunlight, but 
the fascmation of historic and poetic romance. We wandered about 
the gardens, crept through a subterranean passage, dark as Erebus — 
lighting matches as we went, and dodging the slimy drops that oozed 
from the mouldering arches above and made muddy pools beneath, 
marked well the b-.ilwarks and the towers thereof, on some of which 
Imden trees were growing; feasted our eyes on the valley through 
which the Neokar rushes, and noted the slopes beyond, convent 
crowned • the valley of the Rhine westward, the Alsatian hills and the 
oak-crested hills of Geissburg. Just by the edge of the Jettenbuhl 
we came upon an artist who had secured from this commanding out- 
look a view of the wide panorama while yet the morning light and 
longer shadows gave a depth and richness to the picture which would 
be lost at noon, But we carried away.from Heidelberg, in memory 
and imagination, more enduring impressions than the artist could 
make on paper or canvas, for " There can be no farewell to scenes like 
these, " Just here we have a suggestion of the opulent pleasures of 
reminiscences, which follow travel, as those of anticipation precede 
It, and those of realization attend it. Memory and imagination, and 
twin enchanters, reconstruct the scenery of the past, and bear us 
to and fro with the ease and speed of thought. In his blindness at 
fourscore, Niebiihr used to sit quietly in his chair, while a serene 
smile would light up his venerable face. When asked the source of 
Ms pleasure, he would refer to his Oriental travels, which he was 
again reproducing before his still unclouded mental vision — a sweet 
alleviation in hours of unwilling idleness. 

Carlsruhe, the capital of the Grand Duchy of Baden, is built in 
the form of a fan, ils streets converging to a common center, the 
Ducal Palace Only brief and rapid glances were had of its cheerful 
avenues, parks and suburbs. I remember the luscious strawberries 
which were brought to us by peasant girls, a partial compensation 
on a hot August day for the lack of cold water, so constantly noticed 
by those travelling abroad who are accustomed to the comforts and 
conveniences of American railways. The guard seemed to suffer 
still more, sweating in his thick woolen uniform, and wearing a stiff, 
glazed cap, that looked unseasonable in midsummer. The women 
toiling in the harvest field, tawny and coarse looking, were the last of 
the objects we noticed as we were swiftly borne along to the borders 
of Switzerland. 



CHAPTER VI. 

SWITZERLAJ^D. 

THE CITY OF BASLE. 

An unclouded sun poured down its torrid heat as we reached 
Basle. I found comfortable quarters at Hotel Schrieder, opposite 
the German station, on the Swabiau side of the Rhine. Towards 
evening I took a stroll of four miles, crossing the river and exploring 
pretty thoroughly the streets of the older section, known as Gross 
Basle. German is spoken, and three quarters of the people are Prot 
estants. Its streets are well supplied with fountains, and kept with 
Dutch cleanliness. The religious character of the people used to be 
shown by their strict sumptuary laws, and by the mottoes over their 
doors. Sometimes business and religion got strangely mixed, as 
here: "Wacht auf ihr jVIenschen und that Buss, Ich hciss zum 
goldenen Rinderfuss" — " Wake and repent your sins with grief, I'm 
called the golden shin of Beef. " On Sunday all must go to meeting 



dressed in black, and carriages were not permitted in town after 10 
P.M. A footman behind a carriage was forbidden, as were slashed 
doublets and hose. The number of dishes and the wines at dinner 
parties were controlled by the Unzichterherrn, or censors. In 1839 
a visitor says, " Even now, should the traveller arrive at the gates of 
the town on Sunday during church time, he will find them closed, 
and his carriage will be detained outside until the service is over." 
The clocks used to be kept an hour ahead of the true time, as a 
conspiracy to deliver the city to an enemy at midnight, it is said, was 
once fi-ustrated by the clock striking one instead of twelve. There 
used to be the Lallenkonig of the clock tower on the bridge, a huge 
head, with long protruding tongue and rolling eyes. The swing of 
the pendulum made these grotesque grimace.s, which' have been in- 
terpreted as offering contempt to Little Basle opposite, then owned 
by the Duchy of Baden. In this line of grotesque ornamentation is 
the ' ' Dance of Death, " attributed to Holbein, who was born at Basle, 
and died in the plague at London, 1.554. It is said that he was, in 
his days of poverty, employed by an exacting- man, who watched 
closely the scaffolding from below, to see if he kept close to his work. 
Young Holbein, being disposed now and then to steal away to 
a neighboring wine shop, painted a pair of dangling legs so very like 
his own, that the man was entirely deceived, and gave him credit 
for a diligence he was not then disposed to show. The idea of 
dancing skeletons was not original with Holbein, for ancient Greek 
and Roman art records it on sculptured sarcophagi and household 
lamps. Petronius describes a similar personation introduced at a 
Roman banquet. Monkish chronicles of Eualand, translated 1390, 
tell of church-yard dances. In allusion to the plague at Basle, 
during the continuance of the great council 1431-1 -WB, the prelates 
ordered the painting of a "Dance of Death." This was before the 
birth of Holbein, and doubtless suggested to him the idea. Meg- 
linger's work on Lucerne bridge, the ghastly decorations of Campo 
Santa at Pisa, and many other lugubrious delineations of death and 
destruction, are in keeping with the lurid view of the hereafter then 
prevalent. 

SUNDAY SIGHTS. 

TSTo traces either of saturnine feeling or of Puritanic strictness re- 
vealed themselves during two visits to Basle. Sunday seemed a 
festive day and given up to drinking and pleasuring by many, at 
least the latter part of the day. The outdoor orchestras and brass 
bands in the beer gardens struck up their music at 4 p m. I noticed 
that whole families oftentimes would take a table m these gardens, 
and together, from the youngest up, indulge their bibulous propen- 
sities. I looked into one or two morning congregations in Romish 
churches on my waj'' to Protestant service. These were crowded as 
usual, and some German chorals were finely rendered. About a score 
of strangers met at Three Kings and listened to an English preacher 
who gave a familiar discourse on the Healing of the Leper, rehears- 
ing something of his own observations of leprosy in the East. The 
hotel, Trois Rois, is named from a conference on this spot in 10.24 
of Conrad II , Henry III. of Germany and Rodolph III., who there 
signed a contract for the protection of the town. Basle was founded 
by the Romans and called Basllia. The University, Minster, Coun- 
cil Hall, Museum and Arsenal are full of interest to the student of 
ancient annals. The Monument, commemorating the battle of St. 
Jacob, tells us that "Here died 1300 Swiss and Confederates fighting 
against Austria and France. Our souls to God, our bodies to the 
enemy!" 

THIRD-CLASS SWISS CARRIAGES. 

It is 167 miles from Basle to Geneva. The fide occupies from 
10.30 A.M. to 9 P.M. The third-class railway carriages had a cen- 
tral aisle and carried thirty persons on each side, couples facing 
each other. The cars had low-back seats and everything open be 
tween. The better ventilation, the absence of the hot cushions and 
padded sides of the close apartments, first and second class, the bet- 
ter opportunity of seeing and the liberty of moving about, made the 
change agreeable, to say nothing of the lessened expense. A Swiss 
gentleman with his English wife were pleasant seatmates, and gave 
me not a little information about Switzerland. But the sudden ap- 
pearance of Lake Geneva, or Leman, was a most delightful surprise 
in every respect. 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



27 



LAKE LEMAK AND GENEVA. 



" Clear placid Leman! thy contrasted lake 
With the -wild world I dwelt in, is a thing 
"Which warns me with its stiUuess to forsake 
Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. 
Drawing near, 
There breathes a living fragrance from the shore 
Of flowers yet fresh with childhood. Here the Rhone 
Hath spreai himself a couch, the Alps have reared a throne." 

This beautiful expanse of water lay bright as silver under the 
westering sun, except where the leaden hues of bare, rugged, 
wrinkled mountains shadowed it, while its borders were fringed 
with populous villages, vineyards and gardens. I saw the blue and 
arrowy Rhone rushing out from between heights that appear "as 
lovers who have parted." These snowy peaks rise to the height of 
nearly 10,000 feet. Beyond the seven-headed Dent du Midi were 
the Tete Noir and the Alps of Savoy. Sixty miles southward may 
be seen Mont Blanc in regal splendor, although amid the confusing 
grandeur of the sudden prospect opened I could not certainlj' desig- 
nate it at the moment. Voltaire was right in vaunting the beauties 
of the exquisite scene, " Mon Lac est le premier!" Surely no fairer 
spot need be sought for a summer resting place or for a longer 
period. I rather enjoyed the legend of Bishop Protais, who was 
buried here in 530. It was proposed in 1400 to move his remains, but 
"he showed some repugnance and did not seem to be inclined to go 
any further." A sensible corpse ! With Shakespearean emphasis it 
cried, " Blessed be the man that spares these stones, and cursed be 
he that moves my bones." For the liN-ing or the dead the shore of 
this crystal sea is a good stopping place. Alexander Dumas wrote, 
"Geneva sleeps like an Eastern queen above the banks of the lake, 
her head reposing on the base of Mont Salevc, her feet kissed by 
each advancing wave." Voltaire said that when he shook his wig, 
its powder dusted all the republic, and a noble of Savoj- said that 
he could swallow Geneva as easily as he could cmptj' a spoon. 
But though circumscribed in territorial extent, its moi'al influence is 
as wide as the earth. The conflicts of Genevan ideas were sneer- 
ingly compared by Emperor Paul to "a tempest in a tumbler," but 
the results of the life of a single man like Calvin are of immeasu- 
rable importance to the world. " No man has lived," said Dr. Wis- 
nor, "to whom the world is under greater obligations for the liberty 
it now enjoys than to John Calvin."* Nor should D'Aubigne, Felix 
NefE, Neckar, Sismondi and others be forgotten. One of my 15rst 
visits was to Calvin's former home, No. IKi Rue de Chanoincs — 
canons — which was pointed out to me by a canon-ical looking man 
dressed in black, who, in broken English, made inquiries about 
America, and, in parting, extended his hand verj- deferentially and 
said, kindly, "Good travel, good travel!" The proprietors of The 
CoiiUmnt and Sioiss Times, Bates Brothers from Boston, U. S., were 
also courteous iu their attentions. The semi weekly has a list^of 
visitors from abroad, and there is at 1 Place Bel- Air a reading-room 
at their service. At Fremont Jackson Pension, 1 Rue Pradier, I 
found an agreeable home, at five francs a day. It is frequented by 
English and Americans who prefer family life to that of a hotel. 
The birthplace of Rousseau, 69 Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau, is 
marked by an inscription on its front. When sixteen yeai's of age 
he was an apprentice to an engineer, but an unwilling toiler, for he 
longed for wider liberty. Returning one night from a ramble in the 
country, he arrived at the city gate just as the drawbridge rose, and 
was excluded for the night. Fearing to meet his austere employer 
he absconded, and became a wanderer in Savoy, then a student at 
Turin, where he exchanged Calvinism for Romanism. Thus, liter- 
ally on the swing of a gate " hinged" the career of this brilliant, 
godless man. The churches, university, museums and arsenal con- 
tain not a few relics of olden time. In the library founded bj^ Bon- 
nivard are homilies written on papyi'us bj^ Augustine in the sixth 
century ; in the academic museum is a stuffed elephant which once 
belonged to the town authorities, but proved to be so much of an 
elephant on their hands that it was shot by a cannon ball and its 



* As Lord Lytton has said, Calvin is " the loftiest of reformers, one 
whose influence has been the most wide and lasting. Wherever 
property is secure, wherever thought is free, you trace the inflexi- 
ble, inquisitive, unconquerable soul of Calvin." 



meat sold to the restautauts to pay the expense of his taking off. 
More savory reminiscences are suggested by a forty-four pound 
trout and other preserved specimens of Swiss fish. But following 
out my purpose to see "places and people, not things," I preferred to 
be outdoors while at Geneva, as elsewhere. 

VIEWS A FOOT. 

The numerous bridges over the Rhone and the swift, blue torrent 
rushing beneath them, a few hours ago a muddy stream, now of 
azure hue, clear and pure; the washerwomen busy by the brink, 
rubbing, rinsing and wringing their clothes as they leaned over 
a wooden barrier, nearly on a level with the water; the crowds 
about the cafes on the Isle of Rousseau and on other breezy prome- 
nades; the steep, narrow, crooked streets of the older part of the 
town, with the shops and street markets, interested me exccedingl3\ 
Prices of food and merchandise were very reasonable. I had an ex- 
cellent lunch at noon, well served, for eleven pence, and for seven 
(14 cents) bought a black silk sun-umbrella, small and worn, but in 
good condition, and which did good service all through Italy. 
Geneva is at the height of the season a vast caravansary, on the 
highway of travel between Germany and the Mediterranean. One 
is sure here to meet his countrymen, from whatever land he hails. 
The loveliness of its location, the healthfulness of the town, its 
literary and religious life, with the political and historical interest 
attaching to it, combine to make Geneva a favorite centre. Begging 
is forbidden and but few idlers are seen, compared with Roman 
Catholic communities. There are Avandcring Savoyards here who, 
perhaps, by singing can earn a few centimes a day. Rarely have I 
heard a mellower voice than was heard late one night under my 
window. Its pensive sweetness and soulful emphasis can never be 
forgotten. The lad may have been thirteen. He had no instru- 
ment, but he simg like a nightingale. " There was a sadness in the 
voice that was not in the song." This little fellow was evidently 
singing for his bread, and put into liis ballad the same pleading ear- 
nestness which characterized that English barrister who, felt he said, 
as if his children were pulling at his skirts, asking for food. In 
both cases a triumph was won. 

AValks about Geneva bring you to the grave of D'Aubigne; to the 
banks of the Arve ; to Cologuy, the residence of John Milton and 
Lord Byron, where Manfred and the third canto of Childe Harold 
were written ; to Robert Peel's mansion, that of Rothschild and the 
former home of Empress Josephine, and to the Protestant burial- 
grotmd whei-e Calvin, Sir Humphrey Davy and other eminent men 
have tlieir resting place. Not two leagues out of Geneva is Vol- 
taire's chateau, where you can see the room in which he received 
the deputies of kings and emperors; the study where he wrote; the 
terrace and garden overlooking the lake and conunanding a view of 
Mont Blanc, with other memorials of the philosopher. The chapel 
is removed on which he placed the ambiguous inscription "Dm 
erexit Voltaire." 

SWISS KESTIVAI-S. 

One dark December night in 1603, the army of the Duke of Savoy 
came secretly to the gates of Geneva, 3000 strong. The scaling lad- 
ders were already placed upon the walls, and 200 men had pene- 
trated the fortifications, when a sentinel going his midnight rounds 
lantern in hand discovered them, fired and roused the town, the 
enemy was driven away and left 300 dead behind. This ended for- 
ever the plots of the House of Savoy. The faithful sentinel fell iu 
the attack, but his lantern is still kept, as is that of Guy Fawkes at 
Oxford. The FSte de I'Escalade is still observed. Still older is 
the Vine Festival, celebrated at long intervals at Vevay by an 
ancient guild, centuries old. At the last pageant 1000 participated, 
and 40,000 spectators were accommodated on a platform in the 
market-place. Ceres, Bacchus, Silenus, Satyrs, Fauns and Nymphs; 
white oxen and horses caparisoned with tiger skins; flower girls 
and shepherds; haymakers and milkmaids; reapers and gleaners; 
ploughmen and vinedressers, each and all bearing fraits of the 
earth, and implements of agriculture; woodcutters and chamois 
hunters, with bands of music and choirs of singers, made up the 
procession. There was an invocation or anthem, Ranz desVaches — 
the cow-herd's melody played on the alphorn to call the cattle 
home — then tableaux or cantatas, where the parties named went, 



OUTDOOR Life in euroPi;. 



through a representation of their varied vocations, and at the close 
of each of the two days devoted to the festival there were illumina- 
tions, banquets and out-door dancing. 

o\i;r the laioe. 

From Geneva to Chillou is about 50 miles. Including frequent 
landings, the time by steamer is about four hours. I never had in 
travel more satisfaction crowded into an equal space of time. There 
were a hundred passengers aboard, but none of them interrupted my 
reveries, unless in answer to a question. Memory was bu.sy with the 
past, as my eye rested on one object after anotlier around which poetry 
and history had thrown undying associations. The day was serene 
and the air balmy. The atmospheric and cloud effects in the picture 
that continually opened before us were full of varied beauty. Fields 
of snow were seen in the higher Alps; a rich, purple light clothed 
(he lower ranges as with velvet; and on the terraced slopes nearer the 
lake, vineyards and gardens bloomed, with picturesque villas and 
hamlets, towns and villages, churches and castles, embowered in 
grove or forest. Here is what was the hunting-seat of the Burgun- 
dian kings, and there the former home of Madame De Stael, with 
Roman tombstones and other relics of Julius Cresar's battles with 
the Helvetians. Convent and hermitage, farm-house and Druidic 
retreat are scattered here and there, each with its history. Over 
yonder precipice, one bright August day like this, while enjoj'ing 
with her townspeople a rural festival, a young bride .slipped and fell. 
In trying to save her, lier husband also was dashed to the depths 
below. To this day there is a crimson colored rock pointed out as 
hearing the stains of their blood. Midway in oiu' trip over this 
crescent lake is Merges, an elegant town with its lofty donjon, 170 
I'eet, ))uilt b)- the beloved Bertha, queen of the Burguudians, eleven 
centuries ago. Her age was called a golden one. She used to mount 
lier palfrey and visit all her people, distaff in hand, to encourage in- 
dustry among them. Coins, monuments and seals represent her on 
her throne with this ancient emblem in her hand. The proverbs of 
( Jermau and Italian introduce her name as significant of good old 
limes, like those of Queen Bess of England. On the opposite shore 
is Thonon, once the residence of Madame Guyon. 

Lausanne is a tri-mountain city superbly placed on tlie lower 
slopes of Mount Jurat, girdled by groves, pine and acacia, ample 
parks and fruitful vineyards, with the Alps of Savoy and the Valais 
i a view bej'ond the lake, rising in rosy light. Westward are the 
Jura, breathing, as Ruskin says, "the first utterances of those 
mighty mountain symphonies soon to be more loudlj' lifted and 
wildly broken along the battlements of the Alps. The far-reaching 
ridges of pastofal mountain succeed each other, like the long and 
.sighing swell which moves over quiet waters from some far-off 
stormy sea." But the scenic charms of Lausanne are not all. His- 
toric associations begin far back in the sixth century, when the relics 
of St. Anne brought hither pilgrims from afar and gave impulse to 
the growth of the place, hence its' name Laus Anna. Silva Belini. 
or woods of Bel, saw the bloody sacrifices of Druids. In 1479 
occurred that papal farce of trying and excommunicating in the 
name of the Trinity the army of May-beetles that were devouring 
every green thing in the neighborhood. On the road leading to 
Ouchy, the landing-place, is the hotel that marks the farmer residence 
of Gibbon. The terrace remains where the historian, one June mid- 
night iu 1787, walked after he had concluded his Roman history. He 
says: " After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a covered 
walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, 
and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, 
the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all 
nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on 
recovery of my freedom, and perhaps the establishment of fame. 
But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melancholy was 
spread over my mind by the idea that I had taken an everlasting 
leave of an old and agi-eeable companion, and that whatsoever 
might be tlic future of my history, the life of the historian must be 
short and precarious." 

VEVAT AND CLARBNS. 

Vevay is a focal point, perhaps the best, for a view of Lake 
Leman. It is also a resort in winter and called " a miniature Nice." 



On an eminence behind the town is the cathedral church. A Gene- 
vese author writes, "The aspect of this scene, atones so majestic 
and so ricli, seemed to me, as I qtiitted tlie church service, like a 
continuation of the anthem of the Creator's praise." Here are 
Ijuried the remains of the regicide Ludlow and those of Broughton 
who read to Charles I. his sentence of death. They died here in 
exile, a price having been set on their heads. I noticed the old 
baronial castle of Blonay and the donjon beyond, the spot associated 
with Rousseau's "Nouvelle Heloise;" audtliere 

" Clarens, sweet Clarens, birthplace of deep Love! 
Lone, wonderful and deep. It hath a soimd 
And sense and sight of sweetuess." 

Guide books usually praise and point out the felicitous appro- 
priateness of poetic fancies as applied to places, but the one I held 
in my hand, published by Ghisletti, of Geneva, remarks, " Clarens 
is a dust- box at the foot of a bare hill, and in warm weather inspires 
no sentiments save those of weariness and thir.st." I remember 
counting 75 tall poplars that stood like gendarmes along the .shore 
beyond, and the swans and white doves that appeared as our steamer 
came near Montreux. 

A FAMOUS PRISON. 

Two miles more completed our sail. We landed about a mile from 
the Castle of Chillon, and three of us took a row-boat and were 
pulled to the famous prison, whicli poet and artist have made 
familiar to everj^ one. It is a silent, impressive iricture of feudal 
barbarism, and well worth inspection. Its white walls and Gothic 
tiu-rets shone in the bright sunlight, as our curtained barge swung 
round the upper angle and we alighted under the drawbridge. We 
looked into the depths, "a thousand feet below" — only the actual 
depth is about 500 feet. We waited till a dozen totirists were 
gathered, and then a bright French woman took us iu charge. She 
rattled off her lesson with great speed. I suggested to her that some 
of us preferred English, but that advice was wasted. Enough, how- 
ever, was ttnderstood bj' me to make the exercise exhilarating, at 
least. Some who could better keep up with her volubility kindly 
interjected a sentence in English, as she paused to take breatli; 
others made their German translations at the same time. The 
Military Chapel, Hall of Justice, Reception Room, chambers of the 
Duke and Duchess and the Chapel of the Duke of Savoy, with its 
carved stalls, were shown, and the Oubliette, where fotu- steps down 
through the darkness ijlunged the condemned into the depths of the 
lake, where they could " forget" their sorrow and torture forever. 
The dungeon below the lake, where Bonnivakd was chained seven 
years to a pillar; the beam, blackened by time, from which the cap- 
tive was Inmg by wrist or neck; the instruments of torture and the 
shelving rock on which the doomed passed their last night, were 
.shown, in turn. They awakened no very pleasant feelings towards 
tyrants in general, and towards the House of Savoy in particular. It 
was a relief when we reached the court-yard again, and the brisk 
young cicerone said " G'est finV Yes, those days and deeds of 
darkness are also "finished." The iron age when might makes 
right is over, and Switzerland is free ! 

" Free as the chamois on their mountain side! 
Firm as the rocks which hem the valley iu. 
They keep the faith for which their fathers fought. 
They fear their God, nor fear they aught beside!" 

Thousands visit this ancient castle every year, to pay their tribute 
to the memory of the Prior of St. Victor. I noticed Byron's name 
cut on the stone pillar about which this noble captive trod and wore a 
path " as if the cold pavement were a sod." In 1348 there were 1300 
Jews burned here, charged with a conspiracy to poison the public 
fountains of Europe.* A short walk takes you to Villeneuve, built 
on the ruins of a Roman town, where sarcophagi, containing well 



* A pious prayer, inscribed in 1643 above the entrance to Chillou 
reads ' ' Gott der Herr segne den Eiu imd Ausgang"— " May God bless 
all who come in and go out." The whiteness of the walls has con- 
tinued remarkably these 643 years. This is mainly owing to the 
purity of the air liere, as in Greece and Italy, which does not blacken 
ruins as in England. " The Prisoner of Chillon," an imaginary tale, 
was written by Byron in June, 1816, while detained two days by 
stormy weather at a small tavern at Ouchy. 



OUTDOOK LIFE IN EUROPE. 



29 



preserved remains, have boen found, and also medals and inscrip- 
tions of the second century. The archaeologist as well as the artist 
finds much to engage his attention about the lake. So also the 
geologist and naturalist. There are twenty-one species of fish in 
these waters and fifty different kind of birds along its shores. A 
sixty-pound trout was once sent as a present to the Dutch Govern- 
ment. The study of the trees is another engaging diversion, where j 
one tarries a few weeks. The pine, larch and flr are found in high i 
altitudes, the lime, yew, a.sh, elm, chestnut, alder and holly on lower 
slopes. The fig and olive are found not far from Chillon , here and 
there the pear and pomegranate, the plum and peach. The j 
peasant of the Rhone and Savoy, says Yost, "exults in the beauty 
of his country and thinks that the world cannot produce such an i 
assemblage of enchanting scenes." "Of this neighborhood and the 
Bernese Oberland this enthusiastic traveller gives glowing descrip- 
tions, quite Virgilian in flavor, so that one sees the mountains and 
■the valleys; the sunny nooks enamelled with bluebell and cowslip, 
woodbine and ja.smine; the glittering glacier and the purple vine- 
yard, and hears the da.sh of cascades, the murmur of the brook, the 
lowing of the cows and the tinkliuL;- of theii- bells, the stroke of the 
fisherman's oar and the vesper bell lulling al ihe clo.se of the day. 

SWISS COSTC.MES. 

Yost's pencil as well as his pen pictures the hardy mountaineer with 
belt and alpenstock, the shepherd with his huge horn, the hay- 
maker and farmer with scythe and pail, and the milkmaid with 
plaited petticoat and apron of blue linen, her hair — not falling 
straight down over her eyes, as is the idiotic style in some countries 
— but drawn back from her shining brow, tied in light tresses and 
crowned with a tasteful little velvet cap. Some peasant girls wear a 
scarlet bodice bordered with black, a jaunty waistcoat without 
sleeves, a short striped dress, and flowers in their hair and !ia(s. The 
out-door life and healthful exercise of the people promote longevity. 
Yost tells of a Swiss village on the Visp where there were several 
centenarians living at the same time, one of wliom begun his second 
century with a third marriage and in due time had a son who was 
himself married twenty years after. 

iJEltSKSE ohkhlakd. 

For thirty-three fi'ancs I bought tickets at Geneva of Cook, which 
took me to Bern, Thun, Interlacben, Lake of Brienz, over the Brunig 
Pass to Sarnen and Alpnach, thence over the lake to the city of 
Lucerne, about 160 miles. The lime occupied was from Friday noon 
to Saturday night. 

FRELBURC4, with its bold, picturesque scenery, its suspension 
bridge, over|ianging a deep, broad ravine; the cathedral, with its 
lofty tower, and the romantic environs, are remembered with dis- 
tinctness. 

Bern is a queer, grotesque, bearish place, and amused me much. 
I wandered about the streets and into the shops, out to the terrace, 
over the cathedral, and up to the top of the roof, enjoying the after- 
noon ramble exceedingly, buying here and there souvenirs. Bears 
are as plenty here as watches are in Geneva. Music-boxes I found 
stowed away everywhere. I sat down in a chair, and a cheerful 
melody bade me welcome. Lifting a bottle, another lively strain 
started from a concealed instrument, and seizing a cane, that, too, 
begun a waltz. It seemed as if the spirit of fun took possession of 
almost everything. Even in the carvings of the ca'thedral stalls the 
most ridiculous figures were noticed. Bruin was represented as 
beating a drum; a man was eating a lunch; a carver was at his 
bench, and a woman at her washtub. Had these figures been cut 
out of a pine bench in a Yankee school-hou.se one would not won- 
der, but to have them put before the eye in a place of worship is one 
of the unexplained oddities of Bern. Over the central door of the 
cathedral are innumerable figures carved to represent the infernal 
regions, not an appetizing thing to meet the eye entering church, and 
hardly in keeping with the Scripture, "Thou shall call thy walls ml- 
vatioii and thy gates prai.se." A statue of Moses, with horns, stood 
outside. 

ALPINE GLORIES. 

The panorama of the Alps spread out before me as I walked by the 
sycamore shade on the high promenade overlooking the Aare was 



the most satisfactory thing to carry away from Bern. The afternoon 
shadows were lengthening, and the glow of those countless snowy 
peaks, from 6000 to 13,000 feet high in the blue heavens, is something • 
not easily described. As we rode that evening towards Thun we had 
the sight of a gorgeous sunset, followed by a Nachgliihen, or after- 
glow of remarkable beauty, as H., an American resident abroad and 
familiar with Switzerland, informed me. 

TiiTjN was founded in 1320 by two counts. One murdered the 
other, and the blood-stains, like those of Rizzio of Holyrood, have Ipng 
been preserved in town for the delectation of tourists and enrichment 
of showmen. Yost, who spent seven years near here, writes up the 
scenery with rather more fulness and ardor than Livy, or Csesar in 
his commentaries, and compares the Lake of Thun in size to Winder- 
mere, while in beauty, ho says, it is incomparable, " a most splendid 
view of mountains, groves, orchards, villages, churches, castles and 
vallas ; fruit trees with a thousand ambrosial sweets ; yellow .sheaves 
of corn bending to the sparkling boughs, blended with orange, pink 
and purple, and meadows enlivened with sheep." All these were 
shut out, not only by night, but by a sudden thunderstorm. As we 
crossed the lake we had the novelty and excitement of the tempest 
and the blinding lightning. I would not go below, but, shielded by 
mj' zephyr I'ubber coat, kept on deck, gazing into the inky sky and ' 
on the peaks which for an instant shone out as flash succeeded fiasli, 
leaving \is in darkness that could be almost felt. The pilot kne\s- 
the way. The ten miles were soon passed. Landing al Darligen 
we were soon brought to 

INTERLAKEN. 

We found shelter in Hotel Unter.seen. This town, "between the 
Lakes," is a bright, busy place, through which some 30,000 tourisis 
pass every summer. It is surrounded by the gleaming Alps, the 
black Faulhorn, the scraggy Stockliorn, the pyramidal Nicsen and 
.lungfrau, "Queen of the Bernese Oberland;" threaded by the Aare 
and beautified with shady aveiuics, imposing hotels, and an elegant 
park. Swiss '<liops, (piiiiut old mills, inns .and boarding houses at- 
tract the eye; the Ivuisaal willi its niiisic, balls and banquets; excur- 
sions to the pine woods, old castles, nunneries or churches, also 
serve to occupy the leisure of those who tarry here; Lauterbrunnen 
and Grindelwald are easily reached. Byron laid the scene of "Man- 
fred" at the castle Unspuunen. He compares the Stanbljach to the 
tail of a white horse streaming in the wind, nine hundred feet long. 
Mrs. Stowe says "the waterfall is very sublime, all but the water 
and the fall!" Coming in the dry season the visitor is apt to be dis- 
appointed. I did not risk it, but pushed on to see the Giessbach, still 
higher, 11-18 feet, and broken by seven cascades. These wei-e fuller 
after the copious rain of the previous night, and poured down into 
the Lake of Brienz through dense dark masses of fir-trees, leaping 
from ridge to ridge and spanned by rustic bridges. Rainbow hues 
by day and the glow of Bengal lights at night are added attractions. 
Only an hour is required to cross the little lake. There is much to 
engage the thought besides the scenery as one floats serenely over 
Swiss waters. 

ANCIENT LAKE DWELLERS. 

Recent researches have brought to light a vast amount of enter- 
taining as well as suggestive knowledge of the ancient lake dwellers 
of Western Switzerland. In place of the ijalatial hotels that now 
open their doors to the strangers, there were huts of clay filled into 
wooden walls, and roofed with rushes. These houses were built on 
piles of oak and fir, the lower end of which were pointed by some 
edged instrument. Under beds of peat, of three distinct layers, have 
been found tlie implements and utensils of the stone age ; also relics 
that indicate the food eaten — cereals, venison and fish ; the clothing 
worn, and many other things. This was before the age of iron or of 
bronze, and some scholars believe these are vestiges of a civilization 
6000 years old. Merges on Lake Leman, Marin on Lake New- 
chatgl, Nidan on Lake Bienne and Meilen at Zurich are notable illus- 
trations of this prehistoric life. Herodotus wrote, B.C. 400, of lake 
dwellers in another land, "who dwelt on platforms made on tall 
piles, which stand in the middle of the lake, approached from the 
land by a narrow bridge. Each has his hut. They feed their horses 
and other beasts on fish." Why this isolation was sought is nf)t 
clear. Perliaps because of the exemption it secured from wild 
beasts or reptiles, possibly because of the peril of flood and av;i- 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



lanche to which the dweUers in the close and narrow vaUeys are 
exposed. 
■ That these clay and thatched habitations were burned when the 
tribe or clan migrated, is proved alike from old Helvetian history, 
as when Csesar compelled the people to return and build their vil- 
lages, and from the appearance of the charred piles discovered. At 
Marin tifty iron sword-blades were found, highly ornamented, and 
scabbards of bronze, wholly unlike the Roman or Celtic swords. ' Os- 
wald Hare thinks that they may date as far back as one or two thou- 
sand years before Christ. 

You notice the marl accumulated along the banks of this lake. In 
1834 thirty acres were devastated by a land-slide. Two villages were 
nearly destroyed in 1797, and Kienholz was swept away by a simi- 
lar catastrophe in 1499. I had a chance to see something of the val- 
ley further on in whicli Goldau was swallowed up. It was called the 
Paradise of Switzerland It was nine miles long, and abounded in 
exquisite beauty and fertility. 



DESTRUCTION OF GOLDAU. 

On the morning of September 2, 1806, the shepherds were startled 
by a convulsion on the summit of Rosenberg. They saw at noon 
- smoke and blue flames. At 5 p.m. all was quiet. Before 6 p.m. not 
a house or tree remained in sight in the valley below. A solitary 
cottage stood on the top of Rosenberg, occupied bv a vvoodcutttn- 
and his family. Early in the day they were terrified by the internal 
agitations of the mountain. The father went for the minister to ex- 
orcise what was regarded a demon. Before his return the stones 
began to move, and the wife, with a new-born babe in arms, rushed 
out Just in time to save herself as the ground parted. Their home 
was swallowed up in the torrentof stones which was precipitated into 
the valley, burying churches, convents and houses, and driving the 
waters of Lake Lowertz 3300 'feet from its borders. A party of 
tourists were near the bridge of Goldau. One lady affirmed that the 
forest was moving towards tbem, and was lauahed at as deluded. 
Had they stopped they would all have been saved. The ladies ad- 
vanced for a few minutes longer, when the avalanche fell and swept 
them all away. Their companions, a little way in the rear, escaped 
There were 457 who perished. Ebel, whose account is given in 
" Manuel du Voyageur en Suisse," says that the two months pre- 
vious had been extraordinarily rainy, and that for two days the 
water came down in torrents. Four villages were buried more than 
a hundred feet deep by this slide, which in five minutes changed a 
Paradise into a frightful desert. John Neal of Portland, Me. , wrote a 
thrilling poem on this tragedy, entitled " Lament of a Swiss Minstrel 
over the ruins of Goldau." 

" Slowly it came in its mountain wrath, 
And the forests vanished before its path' 
And the rude cliflfs bowed, and the waters fled, 
And the living were buried, while over their head 
They heard the full march of their foe as he sped- 
And the valley of life was the tomb of the deadl" ' 

OVER THE BRUNIG PASS TO LUCERNE. 

Like Noah's Ark, a Swiss diligence is "full of living creatures " 
with a dozen or more on top usually. These chance companions 
were agreeable, and four hours were spent in a mountain ride over 
a smooth, solid road, amid delightful scenery. The summit of the 
pass IS only 3648 feet high, and so the view of Meiringen, its brio-ht 
verdant surroundings, the Reichenbaeh Palls, and the glories of "the 
Grimsel are better enjoyed than at a higher altitude. The Grimsel 
IS the boundary between the Papal and Protestant cantons, and the 
people of the former are not blind to the contrast. Sismondi once 
said, as he interlaced his fingers, " We have cantons whose frontiers 
interlock with each other as do my fingers, and you need not to be 
told whether you are in a Protestant or a Catholic canton- a glance 
suftices to show you." Pochette, a zealous Romanist, is quoted by 
Dr. Samuel Manning, in his "Swiss Pictures," as saying: "The 
Catholics have generally continued to be shepherds, while the 
Protestants have turned their attention to trade or manufactures 
The poverty of the former contrasts with the affluence of the latter 
so that, at first sight, it would seem to be better to live in this world 
with Protestants than Catholics; but there is another world in which 
this inferiority is probably compensated. " A comforting hypotli.-sis 



The air was refreshingly cool as we descended into the Forest 
Cantons, and sweet with the perfume of new-mown hay. Peasant- 
girls brought us milk, raspberries, blackberries, and cherries. The 
half-francs they get for their baskets of berries during the short 
summer-time bring many a comfort to their humble homes, for the 
winters are long. From October to May the flocks and cattle share 
theu- rude shelter. When the snows have melted, and the swallow, 
cuckoo, and primrose— prophets of the spring— appear-, and the grass 
shoots up again in the pasture-lands, the villagers gather in holiday 
dress, gay with flowers and ribbons. They receive a pastor's bene- 
diction. A band of music often precedes them. Says an eye- 
witness: "The cattle, who seem perfectly to understand what is 
going forward, appear almost frantic with joy at being released from 
their long imprisonment, and the procession moves upward to the 
high pastiu-e- ground on the mountain-side, often a distance of 
several miles from the village. On reaching the ground the cattle, 
each bearing a bell, range at will over the flo\\-ery and fragrant turf.- 
The herdsmen take up their abode for the summer in the mountain 
chalets, while their wives and families generally remain below. The 
cattle are driven in twice or thrice a day to be milked. The pro- 
cesses of milking and cheese-making continue, almost -without 
interruption, all the summer." The bell is regarded by the cow as a 
))adge of adoption and approval, its removal as a punishment. 
Without it the cow is sulky and gloomy. On one occasion, described 
by Latrobe, a fine animal had not received her bell when the pro- 
cession moved. She walked a little way, and lay down as if in a 
fainting fit. Several opinions were broached, and remedies suggested. 
An old herdsman settled the matter by going back and getting her 
bell and collar, "which the animal no sooner felt about her neck 
than she got up, shook herself, crooked her tail over her haunches 
in token of complete satisfaction, went off prancing, kicking, and 
curvetting with every appearance of gayety." 

A ludicrous figure is sometimes seen, a Homo caudatus. The 
cowherd seems to have a stout, stifE tail projecting a foot or less 
from his underpinning. This, however, is merely a one-legged 
stool strapped around his broadest part, so that he has one hand 
free to steady himself amid the ups and downs of his zigzag way, 
while the other holds the bucket of milk. The land is measured by 
the number of cows pastured. Thirty-five would yield about 146 
crowns (|110), according to Latrobe. 

The valley of Nidwalden, backed by Pilatus, and the Lungern 
See for a foreground, is called " one of the most delicious scenes in 
Switzerland. " We stopped in several villages to exchange the mails, 
and saw busy and cheerful communities. The hermitage of Nicholas, 
opposite Sarneu, is visited by many relic hunters, who have carried 
oil' fragments of the stone which the saint used as his pillow. Tradi- 
tion says that he took no food for twenty years except the monthly 
Eucharist. He was an ardent patriot and a wise counsellor. At 
Alpnach we see a modern church, with a slender spire built -with 
timber brought from the forest of Pilatus, till latterly inaccessible 
A scene in this church is described by CUiarles J. Latrobe, in his 
"Alpenstock," as follows : " It had been a high day for the Virgin. 
Her efligy, in the form of a doll, had been brought forth, placed 
upon a movable stand, and evidently carried about in procession. 
It appeared that her day was at an end, for the sacristan advanced 
unceremoniously up to the figure, unstrapped her from her pedestal, 
and inserted his hand between her shoes— one of which I had seen 
a woman kiss a few moments before— unscrewed a peg which kept 
her upright, let her fall on his shoulder, and carried her out of the 
church into the vestry; so that the figure which was one moment 
deified and prayed and hymned to, and not approached without 
reverence, even by the consecrated priest, was the next taken on the . 
back of the unsanctified valet, and shut up in a dark box." This is 
a good commentary on Isaiah 46 : 7, "They bear him upon the 
shoulders, they carry him and set him in his place," etc. A spout 
eight miles long was made out of 30,000 trees. From a height of 
3,500 feet down to the water's edge the rudely-dressed logs shot 
down through the trough in six minutes. Professor Playfair says 
that they shot by like lightning, with a roar like thunder. This 
slide was used 1811-1819, and since 1833 a cart road has been used. 
Napoleon's shipyards uere supplied from this mountain. 
The Clastic of Rotzbei-g is remarkable as being the first capture of 



I 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



Austrian strongholds which the Swiss confederates made. It was 
New Year's Day, 1308. There was a fair maiden named Anneli.in 
the castle. Her accepted lover, Jageli, was admitted to a midnight 
interview, and managed to have a score of his Swiss countrymen 
use the same ladder. They surprised the garrison, and this capture 
was followed by a successful overthrow of the Austrian power in 
other parts of Switzerland. The names of these two lovers, it is 
saicf, have ever since been celebrated in patriotic song. 

LUCEKNE. 

As we embarked at Stausstad, and crossed to Lucerne, the daylight 
waned, and the moon rose over the lake. The barren slopes of 
Pilatus wore a deeper hue, and distant Rigi, with its wooded belt, 
grew dimmer in the eastern sky. The lights of the city and along 
the quays were reflected in the water as we came near; the sound of 
music and the roll of carriages through the busy streets reminded 




I.UCERMC AND PILATUS. 

us tliat our day of rural quiet was over. We were in the pleasant 
cit)- of Lucerne (Lighthouse.) Its picturesque walls, watch-towoi's, 
and bridges at once attract the visitor's attention. Its Arsenal has 
battle flags and other trophies, the Town Hall fine carved work, and 
the churches a few monuments and paintings of merit. The "Dance 
of Death," already referred to, decorates the Sprener BrUcke. Other 
pictures on the bridges represent national events. The brond eaves 
make a shady lounging-placc, and the swift blue water.% of the 
Reuss, clear as crystal and cold as ice, give a refreshment to the eye 
on a warm summer afternoon. 

lalso sat with satisfaction before Thorwaldsen's "Lion of Lucerne," 
which commemorates the valor of the Swiss Guard. 786 of whom 
fell, August 10, 1793, in defending the royal family of Louis XVI. 
of France from a revolutionary mol). The posture of the colossal bodj' 
lying across the shield, marked with the fleiir de li'.i; the broken spear; 
the prone, outstretched paw, and the wonderful expression of almost 
human feeling put into the face are most pathetically significant. 
Mr. Ball speaks of it as "perhaps the most appropriate and touching 
monument in existence." It would be impressive even in a cathe- 
dral, but it is more so outdoors in a sequestered nook, cut from the 
solid rock, with trickling rills dripping from its moss}' edges, and 
forming a dark, crj^stal pool, in which the lion is reflected; with 
seats arranged before it, indicative of leisurely, silent, and careful 
inspection. The figure is 38 feet by 18, and was executed by Ahorn, 
a sculptor of Constance, after the design of the great Danish artist. 
Sitting under the shade of maple and pine, you read the inscription 
to those " Qui ne sacrementi fidem fallerent " — but gave their 
blood to defend the Bourbon lily from the Revolutionists. For 
years a survivor of that heroic band used to stand here in his 



patched red, rusty uniform, a guard of the grotto and a guide to 
the visitor. 

SUNDAY SCENES. 

The Sabbath spent in Lucerne remains one of the pleasantest in 
memory of any ever spent abroad. The weather was perfect, the 
natural surroundings uplifting and inspiring; the social greetings 
of friends from over the sea, unexpectedly met at church, and the 
religious privileges, with quiet retirement, contributed to make the 
day one of restful peace, doubly enjoyed after rapid and exacting 
travel. The novelty of the English services consisted in this, that 
they were held in a Romish church, and followed in immediate 
connection with Romish worship. The air was thick with incense 
as the Protestants entered and took the seats just vacated by the 
Papists. The sacristan veiled the high altar with a crimson curtain ; 
a monk, with woollen cowl and scapular-, and with knotted rope 
about his waist, bowed to the Virgin's figure, turned on his heel, 
and left by one aisle; the modest Scotch pastor. Rev. James Stuart, 
of Edinboro, walked up the other; the same servitor that had kindly 
hidden the images and candles from our eyes, now distributed 
hymn-books. Later in the service he took the offerings for Prot- 
estant worship. The great organ was silent. Without instrument 
or choir to lead us, tuneful voices lifted Dundee, St. Martin's, and 
other melodies familiar to English ears all over the globe. The 
canton owns the edifice, and toleration is granted to tho.se whose 
services present antipodal contrasts. A son of Dr. Deems, of New 
York, preached in the evening. Looking at the preachers, who 
exalted the grace of God as the sinner's only hope, I saw, through 
the lingering smoke of "another altar," the glittering capitals 
conspicuous behind them. 

" HiLP Maei.v, Hilf !" — "Help Mary, help 1" May God hasten 
the day when the invocation of Maiy shall give place to the worship 
of Mary's God, and all the temples rai.sed to her homage shall be 
transformed into the sanctuaries of intelligent, spiritual worshippers. 

LAIU5 OP THE FOUR CANTONS. 

Pilatus had not doffed his night-cap; the fashionable world of the 
gry summer rendezvous, Lucerne, had not waked; a soft dreamful 
li„-ht bathed the beautiful bay before our windows as the sharp 
call of the steamer's bell bade us hasten aboard. We pushed out 
fiom the amphitheatre of hills before the sim appeared in the cloud- 
less heavens. AVith each paddle stroke the panorama opened new 
beauties of sky and water, of mountain and valley. Engaging as are 
the charms of Geneva's lake, there are many who jirefer Lucerne's 
still bolder scenery. The four forest cantons are Lucerne, Uri, 
Schwytz and Unterwalden. They enclose the lake in the shape of 
Si. Andrew's Cross. It is about 35 miles to Fluelen, though at least 
90 around the shore of the lake. As lhe.se primitive cantons were 
the cradle of the Helvetic Confederacj', this lake has long been re 
garded a sanctuary of liberty, which trained, as Rogers says: 

" A band of small republics there 
Which still exist, the envy of the world I 
Each clitt' and headland and gTcen promontory 
Graven with the records of the past. . . 
That sacred lake withdrawn among the hills, 
Its depth of waters flank'd as with a wall. 
Built by the giant- race before the flood. 
Where not a cross or chapel but inspires 
Holy delight, lifting our thoughts to God 
From Godlike men." 

Notwithstanding "historic doubts" expressed about William Tell, 
as about William Shakespeare, Napoleon, Homer, Arnold Von 
Winlcelried, Mrs. Partington, and other celebrities, we — that is, tour- 
ists—agree to drop doubtful disputatious and believe everything of 
legentiaiy lore connected with this and other classic places. We 
shall thus avoid a deal of unpleasant controversy and irrelevant con- 
versation, such as Mr. Mark Twain and other " Innocents Abroad" 
had with the Genoese guide who made affirmations in reference to 
"Christopher Colombo on a bust." 

The first object that riveted my eye as we were well out on the 
lake was the naked peak of Pilatus, which draws to it the clouds 
from north and Avest, and labors under a bad reputation. There 
hovers the unquiet spirit of the Roman Procurator, who was banish- 
ed to Gaul by Tiberias, and like other wandering Jews found aorcsl. 



82 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



From this summit come down almost all the wi-athf ul storms that 
vex the peaceful waters. The government of Lucerne forbade, till 
recent times, the ascent of the mountain, because it was believed 
that intrusion into the dark domain of the suicide, or even the drop- 
ping of a stone into the pool on the top, where the sunken body lay, 
would rouse a tempest in the cantons. Even Conrad Ges.sner, the 
naturalist, had to get a special permit from the city fathers in order 
to visit the place. 

The summit is 7116 feet high. It caught the sunlight rays 
before we on the lake had seen the sun. Then we watched peak af- 
ter peak grow bright and the sliadows on the waters soften; smoke 
from the wooded shores where villages nestle and rural sounds are 
heard, like tinkling goat bells or goatherd's horn; looked at the stir 
and bustle which our landings made at Herteustein and Weggis, and 
as Vitzaau's tapering tower appeared, we changed our plan of going 
through to Fluelen, and determined to make the 

ASCENT OF THE RIGHI 

at once, while yet the glory of early daj' could be enjoyed. We 
landed Forty of us seated oui-selves, at 6 a.m., in the sloping car 
which is pushed up, after the Yankee plan, long ago introduced in 
the ascent of Mt. Washington. The height of Righi Kulm (summit) 
is not quite 6000 feet. The road is seven kilometers long, about four 
miles, and the time occupied in the ascent was about an hour, includ- 
uig stops. There are those who think the pleasure of the excursion 
is thus "vulgarized," and prefer to take a sweat in clambering up on 
foot. Two thousand in a day, however, have taken the railway. It 
certainly saves time, and as for views, one can hardly ask for lovelier 
ones than those along the railway. Alpine meadows are scattered 
among the wild rocks, and their bright green sward shaded by the tir, 
ihe slender beech or gnarled chestnut. Towards the top the trees dis- 
appear, but the grass continues all the way, the clover, daisy and dan- 
delion also. The fantastic shapes and movements of clouds and 
shadows, colored by the changing light, made a mosaic, as it were, 
of the bosom of the lakes below. When we reached the summit I 
saw scattered here and there, like bread crumbs, white chapels, ham- 
lets and towns in ever}^ direction; eleven lakes, several cities, wild 
forests and woodlands; while southerly opened a panorama of Al- 
pine mountains and glaciers of bewildering beauty which Latrobe 
well says "defies all description, and which a man may deem him- 
self favored to have been permitted to behold." It is a view, says 
Cheever, " which to behold, one may well undertake a voyage across 
the Atlantic, a glory and a beauty indescribable and nowhere else to 
be enjoyed. When the sun rose so high that the whole masses of 
snow upon the mountain ranges were lighted by the same rosy light, 
it grew rapidlj' fainter till you could no longer distinguish the deep, 
exquisite pink and rosy hues bj^ means of their precious contrast 
with the cold white. Next the sun's rays fell upon the bare rocky 
peaks where there was neither snow nor vegetation, making them 
shine like jasper, and'next on the forests and soft grassy slopes, and 
so down into the deep bosom of the vales. The pyramidal shadow 
cast by the Righi, was mo.st distinct and beautiful, but the atmospheric 
phenomena of the Spectre of the Righi was not visible. " This occurs 
when the vapors of the valley rise perpendicularly under the moun- 
tain opposite the sun without enveloping the summit itself. Shadows 
of the Kulm and of those standing there are cast in magnified propor- 
tion on the phantom screen, encircled by one or two halos, bright with 
liie colors of the rainbow. Possibly in such awe-inspiring exhibi- 
tions amid the hills of God, Goethe thought out in liis Ganymede 
the lines: — 

" The clouds are hovering 
Downward. The clouds, they 

Condescend to passionate yearning, 
Embraced and embracing, 
Up ! up to th}' bosom. 

All Loving Father !" 

Palatial hotels are here, with too much of the puerilities and in- 
dulgences of fashionable folly, profaning, as Ruskin has somewhere 
said, these " catliedrals of earth built with their gates of rock, pave- 
ments of cloud, choirs of stream and stone, altars of snow and vaults 
of purple." 

The view from Righi embraces a circumference of three hundred 



miles. On the east and south, Baedecker counts 133 peaks, of which 
tiie highest is Finsteraarh, 13,160 feet high; Jungfrau, Monch 
Schreckherner and Eiger being almost as high. As the distance the 
eye travels is only twenty to thirty miles, the prospect is more satis- 
factory tlian when the altitude of the beholder and remoteness of ob- 
jects confuse the vision. A telescope at the Kulm also reveals still 
more details. Familiarity with history, however, is better to a trav- 
eller than opera glasses and telescopes. Look. Exactly opposite it the 
mountain from wliich fell the immense slide that entombed Goldau. 
See the memorial church, standing over the bm-ied dead. Next week 
the annual commemorative service is held there. There is the spire 
of Cappel where the great Zwingle fell iu battle, October 13, 1531. 
You remember how that Luther quarrelled with Zwingle about his 
view of the Eucharist and made a parodj' of the first verse of the 
first Psalm, "Blessed is the man that walketh not hi the counsel of 
the Zwinglians." Both did a glorious service, however, in the cause 
of liberty. Zwingle fell in battle pierced with 150 Avounds. The 
body lay all night on yonder field. It was then formally tried and 
condemned for treason and sentenced to be quartered. For heresy it 
was burned. The ashes were mingled with the ashes of swine, and 
the furious mob then flung them to the winds of heaven. By the 
banks of that little lake of Egeri was the battle and the victory of 
Morgarten.* There is tlie opening of a valley where Suwarrow and 
and JVIassena fought, even where chamois hunter had hardly dared 
to tread. Fifteen miles westward you see Sempach, in connection 
with which another of the "Golden Deeds" of Swiss heroes is re- 
membered. The banner of Lucerne was almost in the grasp of Aus- 
trian spearmen. Arnold Von Winkelried shouted, "I will open a 
passage." He swept ten .spears within his grasp and bowed down 
among them like a tree, as Montgomery has it. So Switzerland 
again was free, " Thus death made way for liberty!" 

Down the lake from Vitznau to Brummen, the port of Schwytz 
and to Fluelen, the port of Uri, occupied a few hours longer, and 
opened to thought and vision the scenery associated with William 
Tell. A new edifice is going up at the place where the patriot is 
said to have leaped out of Gessler's boat. A pyramidal rock on the 
opposite shore bears in conspicuous gilt letters the name of Schiller. 
The springs of the Rutli, near by, are the birthplace of the Confed- 
eration, for here met one November midnight in the 14th century 
three mountaineers and bound themselves together bj' oaths of fideli- 
ty. As at the marytrdom of Paul, thi-ee fountains gushed up on the 
spot. The following New Year's the fortress of Rotsberg was taken, 
as already narrated, and this was followed by the speedy overthrow 
of Austrian rule. Fluelen is our last landing place. The crii^pled, 
goitred inhabitants show the prevalence of malaria. Cretinism, or 
idiocy, is ocoasionallj- seen. A little way from here is Altorf. There 
3'ou are shown the spot where the Ducal hat of Austria was dis- 
played before which Tell would not uncover, and where the lime 
tree stood for centuries under which his son was placed with the ap- 
ple on his head; also the river bank by which Tell lost his life iu 
trying to save a child, during an inundation of the valley. The 
whole neighborhood is rich in historic romance. The fuller one's 
memory is, the more intense the pleasure of travel through Switzer- 
land. What Hillard says of Italy is true of otiier places of foreign 
travel, "one who is ignorant is a blind man in a picture gallery. 
Every scrap of knowledge tells. Every hour silent in previous prep- 
aration brings its recompense of reward." 

The Rhone Valley next invites attention. 



* This was the first in the ancient struggle of the Swiss for liberty. 
Duke Leopold had the flower of Austrian chivalry. The Swiss 
knelt in prayer by the lake, and asked God's blessing on the day. 
The enemy" numbered 30,000, the patriots 1300. Yet the}' refused 
the aid of iif t.v exiled brothers who begged that the}' might cross the 
border and assist. Though repulsed, thej- hovered near, and when 
they saw the common enemy enter the defile they rolled down an 
avalanche of rocks and tree trunks and crushed the cavaliy, which 
with the valiant attack of the 1800 soon turned the tide of victory. 
The rout was complete, the carnage terrible, and the lake crowded 
with the Austrian dead. Before evening the victors knelt again in 
thauksgiviug, then received back the banished, whose bravery had 
atoned'for their offences, and set apart the day as one of annual 
prayer and thanksgiving. It was continued through centuries until 
a late period. VideMuUer's Schweitzergeschichte, and PJantas Helv. 
Confederacy. 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



33 



GENEVA TO CHAMBBRT. 

The sunset glowed on the peaks of the Jura as we rapidly passed 
down along the winding Rhone towards the boundary of France. 
Two weeks remained for Italy. I had forgotten my Italian, and I 
knew that the purchase of railway tickets is one of the principal an- 
noyances that a foreigner suffers when unacquainted with the lan- 
guage spoken. Knowing also tliat only paper money was in use in 
Italy, I bought at Geneva another " Cook-book" of coupons for 1.59 
francs— about |30— good to Turin by Mont Cenis Tunnel, thence to 
Genoa, Pisa, Rome and Naples; to Florence, Bologna. Venice, 
Verona, Milan, and back to Turin, good for sixty days. Travel by 
night saves a great deal of time and one avoids the heat and dust of 
day travel in hot weather, particularly felt in southern climates. But 
the evils outbalance the advanfciges, and I have uniformly avoided 
this exhausting way of journeying. One whose eye and mind are 
taxed during the day should secure regular and ample steep every 
night. To say nothing of malarial influences and other evils con- 
nected with night travel, the loss of the scenery of countries which 
one visits, at great expense, is no small consideration. It may be 
said that most Americans get little good from their rapid excursions 
through Europe. It is true. But when one has studiously prepared 
himself to see people and places, and, having seen, can take away 
picture and photograph, such as are often furnished on the spot, he 
does not care to tarry long. He carries home definite impressions. 
He can renew and deepen them at any time. They are permanent, 
enduring possessions. 

THE RHONE VALLEY. 

The route on which we now are started begins, as do some sermons, 
with what is regarded a prosj' introduction. To me, however, the 
ride was exhilarating through the defiles between Savoy and Jura; 
along castle-crowned declivities, bald and snowy peaks, scarred by 
avalanches and here and there marked' by a large shining cross; over 
high viaducts and by the edge of lofty embankments, walled up by 
solid masonry, along the edge of which you look down into the 
foaming waters of the rushing Rhone; through dark tunnels, and out 
again suddenly in full view of some ancient, drows3'-Iooking town, 
beneath the eye, with its street scenes, its railway station, and its ru- 
ral surrounding's uni'oUed in a swift panorama. By taking the ex- 
press train one is carried through all these places without detention. 
At Bellegarde, French officers of customs examined our luggage. At 
Culoz we waited ninety minutes at the base of the Colombier, 4700 feet 
high, near the Castle Chatillon and Lake Bourget, twelve miles long. 
Aix-lesBains was next reached, an old Roman watering place with 
sulphur springs which annually attract several thousand patients who 
drink and bathe in these waters. Remains of ancient baths, a Doric 
arch, an Ionic temple of Venus, Cistertian monastery founded 1135, 
a precipice by the lake where Lamartine was inspired to write his 
" LeLac," and the pathway over which Hannibal is supposed to have 
led his soldiers — these are some of the attractions of the neighborhood. 

A FRENCH TOWN. 

I spent a night and a part of the following day at Chambery. 
A French inn furnished me comfortable quarters. It was built of 
stone, but with outside entries or platforms for the upper stories, 
like some American tenement houses. The windows of my cham- 
bers opened eastward towards the frontiers of Savoy. I can never 
forget how the country was flooded with golden glory as I arose, 
rather tardy, but not too late to enjoy an excellent breakfast brought 
to me in the mile a manger; nor the pleasant ramble about town 
that followed ray morning meal ; the loud and joyous chiming of the 
•cathedral bells, as if for some festival ; the broad Rue de Boigne and 
the book-stalls of old Latin, French, and English literature which 
took my attention quite as long as did the famous fountain opposite ; 
the shops and the people, women carrying heavy burdens, or strapped 
by leathern yoke to a wheelbaiTow like a horse in a harness— these 
and other pictures caught, kept and carried away without becoming 
impediriienta on a rapid but remunerative journey. The habit of 
lively movement, keen observation, and memorizing details is one that 
can be cultivated to a marvellous extent. It doubles the pleasure of 
sight-seeing. But one should eliminate, so that he may not be cum- 
bered with mere rubbish, as one who should attempt to master the 



entire contents of a newspaper. The "survival of the fittest" is all 
we want. 

TAKING THINGS EAST. 

When I entered the station, the Turin train had not arrived. A 
black nun, with chain, cross and rosary, her face unveiled, wag 
chatting with other girls, like herself, in their teens. Another 
lady, well dre.ssed, and evidently used to travel, determined, like the 
pickpocket, to " take things easy," had stretched out on one of the 
broad lounging seats, with head and shoulders reposing on a pile of 
luggage, not exactly the " big bag, little bag, band-box, bundle," of 
those who are unacquainted with the necessities of migratory life, 
but a pile of sensible wraps and other things which experience shows 
to be indispensable. By the way, the heat and gnats of Italy, as 
well as its extortion, are to be provided against. Camphor is good 
for the bites; a few powders, two grains of quinine in each, will 
serve as a prophylactic against malaria; but for beggars and extor- 
tioners I know of no more potent remedy than that by which I saw 
a reverend D.D. relieved of mendicants in Ireland. Close your eye 
and point to your ear, and march right along. No one would think 
of talking to a deaf man. 

MONT CENI8. 

Here we are at Modane, where the last scene of Sterne's " Senti- 
mental Journey " is laid, but where we enter on the first scene of 
journey through Italy, namelj', Mt. Cenis tunnel. This is seven 
miles and a half long, cut through Le Grand Vallon, a moun- 
tain 9600 feet high, and finished on Christmas, 1870. We were twenty- 
three minutes going through. There are no perpendicular shafts, 
yet there is no lack of air, although it was prophesied that men 
would either be stifled with gai or roasted with heat. The ex- 
pense of the undertaking about equals that of Brooklyn bridge, fifteen 
million dollars. Hundreds of lives were lost. Mont Cenis, which 
gives its name to the tunnel, is nearly twenty miles away. The 
valley of the Arc is on the Savoy side, and that of the Dora on the 
Piedmonteso. Fourteen year's in all were spent in the work. In- 
deed, it grew to be a decided boi-e, and some felt as that Maasachusetts 
man did who heard Loammi Baldwin's enthusiastic advocacy of 
Hoosac Tunnel while yet on paper. Pointing to a map, Mr. B. ex- 
claimed, "Why, sir! it seems as if the very finger of Providence 
itself had pointed out this way from east to west." It was answered 
that it might possibly be, but if so, "it was a pity that the finger 
hadn't pushed a hole through Hoosac Mountain." The "finger" 
used on this tunnel was a steel drill, and can be still seen in Turin. 
" The Underground World," by T. W. Knox, Hartford, 1877, has a 
graphic account of this Titanic enterprise. 



CHAPTER VII. 

ITALY. 

ARRIVAL AT TURIN. 

It was evening when, alighting from the train, I found myself in 
the busy, brilliant Corso at Turin. Everybody seemed to be out- 
doors, enjoying a cool, clear starlight night, after a warm August 
day. As I took my tea, the singing of a trio of well-trained voices 
opposite attracted my attention. Their tones were loud, and full of 
passionate expression. Crossing the boulevard, I saw that it was an 
opera bouffe. The platform was in front of a hotel, with a stage 
door in the rear, and an orchestra in front. Tables for perhaps a 
hundred were ranged around it, where ices and wines were served. . 
The music and singing seemed to hold the attention, and hearty 
applause was given to the performance, which was really meritorious, 
both in the vocal and dramatic features. It was not hard to under- 
stand from the movements of the leading singer, a fine baritone, and 
the soprano, that the intrusive tenor was making love to the lady, 
which action excited the ire of No. 1. Coming away as soon as my 
ice-cream had disappeared, I never heard how the affair was settled. 
Further along the avenue there was another similar entertainment. 
The pleasure-loving Italians of this old Sardinian city are very like 
those of Alfieri's day. Better than a guide book is his autobiog- 
raphy. The reminiscences of Silvio PeUico and Alfieri make this 



34 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



city more interesting to a scholar than all the pictures and popish relics 
■within its walls. When but nine years of age, Alfieri came hither, 
entering Porta Nuova at noon, he ■writes, of "a glorious day. All 
seemed so grand and beautiful, I went almost crazy with e.xcitement. " 
His academy life is minutely described; his barter of Sunday delica- 
cies for the works of Ariosto; his sound naps, wrapped in a cloak, 
while the professor lectured in Latin; his fit of study, when he de- 
voured thirty-six volumes of Ecclesiastical History, and then read 
over and over again the "Arabian Nights;" his prodigality and 
dissipation at sixteen, when \vith embroidered dress and span of 
horses he drove about Turin like a young prince — all these, re- 
membered, give an iaterest to the city which mere museums cannot 
yield. In going to Genoa, we passed through his birthplace, Asti, 
also near the battle-ground of Marengo. 

GEN0.4 AND PISA. 

With something of Alfieri's exuberance of feeling at his first 
sight of the sea at Genoa, did I for the first time behold the Medi- 
terranean, the ' ' great sea" that Moses wrote of, whose waters have been 
ploughed by the ships of Tarshish and the iron beaked galleys of 
Rome ; the shores of which have witnessed the missionary journey 
of Paul, the ancient Crusades, the eager rivalries of Venetian, Pisan, 
and Genoese commerce, and from the days of Columbus to those of 
Napoleon and Emanuel have been associated with the most stirring 
events of history. "I never could satisfy myself with gazing on it," 
writes Alfieri. " The magnificent and picturesque site of that superb 
city, Genoa," inflamed his fancy and awakened the most delightful 
associations. 

The social jealousies among Italian cities have nowhere been more 
marked than at Genoa. The Tu.'scan proverb shows this: "Genoa 
has a sea without fish, mountains without trees, men without honor, 
and women without modesty." This feeling, however, is passing 
away. The beauty of its situation gives to Genoa the epithet of La 
auperba. Seen from the fortified hills that surround it, or from the 
high dome of S. Maria di Carigrano, or from the light-house, 488 
feet high, the view rivals that of Naples. The hundred marble 
palaces of Genoese nobles, with their orange groves and fountains; 
the churches, fortifications, monuments and arcades ; the ca.?tles on 
the shore; the ships in the harbor at your feet; the picturesque 
promontory that pu.shes out into the blue Mediterranean, and dis- 
tant Corsica seen in fair weather, a hundred miles away, are some of 
the objects that charm the eye. I first visited the principal prome- 
nade, Acqua Sola, high up, like the Pincian Hill, and enjoyed the 
shady magnolia and oleander, the gushing fountain, the sunset view 
of the summer sea, and the happy gatherings there at that leisure 
hour, chatting awhile with a young Genoese lad who had been some 
years a student in New Orleans and had returned awhile to perfect 
himself in Italian. Columbus was born a few miles away from 
Genoa, at Cogoleto, but the grand statue of white marble, erected in 
1863 to his honor, stands in the square opposite the railway station. 
AVhUe the bulk of the streets are narrow and winding, there is one, 
Strade Balbi, wliich is not surpassed in Europe. The drive along 
the sea is also called the most picturesque highway on the Continent. 
But the glowing descriptions of Rogers, of Hare, of Tuckerman, 
render scenic details needless. The street scenes are a study. You 
see the swarthy, sun-burnt faces of mariners and peasants ; the fair 
patrician ladies yet of Spanish cast, wearing French hats, or grace- 
ful veils; the priest and friar, sometimes portly and well clad, some- 
times barefooted and dirty, girdled with rope and decked with beads 
and crucifix; swarms of half naked children that sadly need immer- 
sion in the sea to cleanse them from filth and vermin ; and busy 
artistins and market-women. Here, under fig or olive, you may see 
the parrots placed, while the oleander grove fm-nishes shade for a cafe 
out-doors. Not a meal did I take in the house. Under one of the porti- 
cos facing the grand monument to Columbus I had my lunches of 
fruits, ices, or whatever was ordered, and then at its close the use of 
a fine upright pianoforte, which stood there by the wide entrance, 
for the pleasure of any who wished music with meals. The absorb- 
ing interest of Italians in music is illustrated by a ghastly tale told by 
Headley, of a man who, while Clara Novello was singing in the 
opera, was stricken by death immediately before her. It was at a 
climax of the play. The moaning, struggling, stiffening victim 



turned his livid face on the prima donna, and she gave a tragic start. 
The song v/as about to cease, but the singer heard the shout to "ge 
on!" and went on. The convulsions threw the man bolt upright- 
while foam and blood oozed from his quivering lips. A seatmate' 
held him down and the trumpets drowned his last breath. At the' 
close of the play, while this man who had held down the dying was 
shouting his " brava, brava!" the police approached and removed 
the body. Music had had the same engrossing interest to the audi- 
ence that the gambler's game used to have at Baden-Baden. 

The shops of the jewellers and the artisans are interesting. Labor 
seemed cheap. Wishing my pocket scissors ground, I stepped into a 
craftsman's abode whose machinery was seen in motion from the street 
door. He took them apart, put them to one flying wheel after 
another, ground and burni.shed and riveted them together with deft 
fingers, and cliarged but four cents for the job. 

As to sleeping in Genoa, it is about as precarious an undertaking 
as at Naples. I did little of it. The rumble and hissing of locomo- 
tives, the noises of the streets and the incessant jabbering of the gos- 
sipevs abroad, made a bedlam of the place. What I had read years 
before in Dr. Eddy's journal was almost realized. He says that in 
his short naps he di'eamed of savages and the scalping knife, and 
woke to hear tlie boisterous laughs of shouting and dancing revellers 
who seenied quite successful in turning night into day. 

The next day's ride was a fatiguing one, partly on account of the 
heat and gnats and loss of sleep, but also on account of the eighty 
tunnels, more or fewer, that continually tried our nerves. The rate 
of speed was higher than we expected to find in Italy, and for thirty- 
nine miles we made no stop. The eye would just get comfortably 
fixed on a beautiful villa, surrounded by lemon groves, or a castle, 
or cathedral, and then, quick as a wink, the dazzling day was turn- 
ed to midnight. Then a brief flash of daylight and another dark 
hole. The English-speaking tourists about me "made light" of it as 
well as they could, but all agreed that there was more dark thaiL 
da}'; that we must be in the Ho-ly Land; that the ride had got to be- 
a continual bore. But the whole of it was passed at length. The- 
cool evening breezes off the sea fanned our cheeks as we neared 
Pisa, and restored our good nature. At one place we were greatly 
deceived. AVhat some were sure were snow-crowned hills turned 
out to be the fine debris of Carrara marble quarries. The captivity 
of Garibaldi is recalled as 3'ou look on the fortress of Spezzia. The- 
place is now a favorite resort for sea bathing. 

Two nights at Pisa only strengthened disgust of Italian street life, 
at least as .seen during the hours commonly given to repose. The 
summer evening dissipations continue till near midnight. When the- 
shout of the orange seller ceases, and the jingle of drinking-glasses; 
is still, then other and unearthly sounds oftentimes follow. Once a 
street fight appeared to be in progress, and a drunken fellow was 
about to be dragged away by a companion or by the gerid, armes. 
Such crying, and pleading, and yelling — all in Italian, of course — 
I never heard before or want to hear again. This was in the first 
large square after leaving the station, where several hotels are lo- 
cated. Quieter quarters are usually found at a distance. At Naples 
I went more than three miles away, and there, as at Rome, found 
comparative quiet. 

A SUNDAY AT PISA. 

ICnowing of no Protestant worship at Pisa, I went Sunday morn- 
ing to the Duomo. It is a good place in which to think. The 
droning priest need not disturb your reveries, and the long past of 
Pisa comes to your mind as yoa sit a little aside from the groups of 
whispering sight-seers that are flitting about from altar to altar and 
picture to picture, Baedecker in hand, and who dodge out the door 
as wise as they entered, satis^gd to have " done" the Duomo. Wait, 
a while. You are in one of the oldest cities of Europe. It has a 
life of thirty centuries. Pelasgian Etruscans gave culture to Rome 
ages ago, and wandering Greeks from Elis, it is said, came hithei- 
■with Nestor and founded this place. Long before Christ it was a 
Roman colony. For the first crusade Pisa equipped one hundred 
and twenty ships. Her banners waved victorious over Sardinia, 
Corsica, Palermo, and the Balaeric Isles. This cathedral was built, 
1063, to commemorate a naval victory over the Saracens. In art and 
science, painting and sculpture, Pisa had few equals. At her uni- 
versity gathered distingxiished scholars. Yonder bronze lamp re- 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



86 



minds yoti of the illustrious Galileo, professor of mathematics here, 
who in 1583 saw the theory of the pendulum in those oscillations 
Many of these sixty-eight columns represent the spoils of ancient 
temples, Roman and Greek, not to add one from Solomon's Temple, 
as has been reported by somebody, determined to make a large story. 
Fifty-three shiploads of soil from Calvaiy make a resting-place out- 
side for the honored dead. The marks of the genius of Angelo, 
Giotto, and other painters and sculptors, .adorn this sanctuary. 
Btained window and bronze door: jewelled altar and long-drawn 
aisle, nave and transept are rich with decorations. But we cannot 
tariy long Again mto the hot atmosphere outside we go, crossing 
the pavement to the cloistered cemetery, and on our way back to 
the hotel looking at the baptistery adjoining Campo Santo. Its clus- 
tered columns and arches are a medley of Gothic and Corinthian art. 
The verger is just starting the melodious echoes that for centuries 
have haunted the double dome. These echoes vanish as we liark 
and hear them, 

' ' Thin and clear, 

And thinner, clearer, farther going! 

Our echoes roll from soul to soul, 

And grow forever and forever!" 

That architectural marvel, the Leaning Tower, had less of a pitch 
than the pictures have sometimes given it. Its pure white marble 
galleries rise in the blue sky with airy grace to the height of 180 
feet. The common opinion is that the spongy soil is the cause of 
the slant. Hillard says that to one who has examined the spot there 
is no room for argument or doubt. 

Prom Pisa to Rome is a distance of 331 miles. We left just as 
the sun rose over the Appenines, and reached the end of our journey 
in eight hours, the city towards which through months of travel my 
eyes had been ever turning. In seeing the seven-hilled city the in- 
terest of the tour culminated. All before this had been preliminary, 
and all that followed was supplementary. Nor was it the Rome of 
the Popes I .sought, but the Rome of the Caasars. Grand indeed I 
expected to tind St. Peter's, with its multitudinous treasures of 
modern art, but the Coliseum, "the monarch of all European ruins," 
possessed far more attractiveness for me. It was old Rome I came 
to visit, the Rome that had lived in school-boy imagination, the city 
where Augustus ruled and Cicero dwelt. I was eager to .see not so 
much her Madonnas and frescoes and mediteval relics, as the crumb- 
ling memorials of her ancient grandeur, and there to retiect on the 
imperishable influence of that august power which has shaped the 
language, the literature and civilization of the race, 

HOME AND THE ROMANS, 

Modern travel in Italy is a process of disenchantment. You have 
pictured to yourself an ancient city like Rome, clothed with solitary 
and romantic desolation. Stillness and beauty attend its decay. 
Fancy has draped every ruin with ivy and mosses. Nothing is to 
\>e heard but the hoot of the owl or the silent tread of the passer-by. 
You have imagined herds of cattle browsing on the yielding turf, 
and everything in the neighborhood in keeping with the solemn 
scene. But you enter tlie city through an elegant railway station, 
and find yourself, as in England and America, beset with clamorous 
coachmen. One of them drives you through noisy streets to a tine 
hotel, where you have a room with the modern conveniences, in- 
eluding the electric wire to call boots, chambermaid, or porter. 
You walk or ride about the city, which you have clothed with fan- 
cy's brilliant hues. But you find a pig-sty in a Roman palace, and 
a cobbler shop in a temple of Augustus. Filth and squalor, beggai-s 
and thieves are on every hand. The poetry changes to prose, the 
di-eara to stern reality. Not that there is no room for sentiment or 
enthusiasm; there is; but much of the glamour fades and the illusory 
coloring disappears. Forewarned of this, one may escape something 
of disappointment. 

The weather was hot at mid-day, but not more so than at New 
York. An umbrella should be used if one is exposed to the direct 
rays of the sun, and sudden extremes of temperature avoided, such 
as are met with while visiting galleries or churches, where the air is 
much cooler than outdoors. Rome abounds with fountains of pure 
water, of which I drank freely. Nowhere abroad, excepting once 
in Pai-is, did I experience harm from the constant use of this bever- 



age. The notion that one must use intoxicating liquors as a guard 
against illness on sea or land is merest moonshine, as shown by in- 
numerable testimonies. 

THE COLISEUM AND FOHtTM. 

First of all to these, accompanied by Dr. S. , an American clergyman, 
I ordered our driver to proceed. The hour was favorable, for the 
glare of the day was past. The sunset glow was fading from the 
Alban mouut;iins; the shadows began to deepen under the gray 
arches of the silent Tiber, and the soft blue of the heavens, in which 
tower and dome and column stood in clear outline, formed a beau- 
tifully transparent medium. Then along the Appiau Way there 
came a gentle evening breeze which, if not a friendly, healthful vis- 
itant, brought a grateful relief to the noontide heat from which we 
had been hiding several hours in our comfortable quarters at Piazza 
di Spagna. 

What a world of history is here! " Troja fuit" we were taught 
in early life, and here the fitting inscription for every wall and arch 
and ivy -crowned ruin is, "it was." The reach and the significance 
of this history held us as with a spell, 

" The Niche of nations! there she stands. 

Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe; 
An empty urn within her withered hands. 

Whose holy dust was scattered long ago. 
The Goth, the C^hristian, Time?, War, Flood and Fire 

Have dwelt upon the seven-hilled city's pride. 
Sfie saw her glories, star by star, expire. 

And up the steep, barbarian monarchs ride 
Where the car climbed the Capitol, 

Alas! the lofty city I and alas 
The trebly hundred triumphs! and the day 

When Brutus made the dagger's edge surpass 
The conqueror's sword in bearing fame away! 

Alas for Tully's voice and Virgil's lay. 
And Livy's pictured page!" 

We looked with eagerness, but our thoughts were too deep for 
connected speech. This little space within the Esquiline, the Pala- 
tine and Capitoline is the scene of Roman history from Romulus to 
Constantine. Here are the precincts of that temple whose law has 
shaped the destinies of nations. It is peopled, to our imagination, 
even now with spiritual existences that yet rule us in the realm of 
tliought with a more potent power than when they dwelt in the 
flesh. 

It was while that cultured critic Horace Wallace was writing his 
monograph, "The Roman Forum," that the darkness of death fell 
on his eyes. He .scion after died, but those lines will live which so 
elociuently describe the emotions of a C^hristian scholar at Rome.* 
The tremulous handwriting indicates that the words were penned 
with diflSculty and pain, and the abruptness with which they close, 
adds impressiveness to the thoughts which they truthfully express. 
Rome, he says, "is the magnetic pole of our moral sensibilities. In 
all other places they tremble toward it, in it they become riveted to 
the soil." Her galleries, he says, are stored with countless treasures, 
yet so far are they from constituting the secret of Rome's attraction, 
that we view even the Apollo with an imperfect enthusiasm. The 
landscape has peculiar beauties, yet the chief interest arises from 
the reflection that we are looking upon the country of Rome. Gor- 
geous are the ceremonials of her Church, yet their chief interest arises 
from the background against which they are viewed. The visible 
city, splendid as much of it is to the eye and taste, lapses into noth- 
ingness before Rome of the mind, over which hang as an electric 
cloud thrilling memories of the days when Rome was the lawgiver 
of the nations, inventress of arts, source of that social wisdom which 
is civil power, and was girt with a divinity invisible to the frivolous 
but irresistible to the thoughtful mind. Silent and deserted is the 
Foram, "trodden only by the steps of peasants as they loiter from 
their toils, or of monks as they cross it to their evening chants. Yet 
with spiritual tenants how thronged, how glittering is the place! 
To the intellect how intense, how vital the influences of the spot!" 
There stood the Capitol. There was the daily meeting-place of the 
Senate of Rome, the patricians of earth. From those councils went 



* "Art, Scenery, and Philosophy in Europe," by Horace Binney 
Wallace, Esq, Philadelphia: 1855. 



36 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



forth protection to oppressed right, punishment to lawless violence 
throughout the globe, till Rome became the tribunal of States, the 
conscience of the world. The Palatine on tke left was the original 
city of Romulus, the scene of those Livian legends which Beaut}' 
will still preserve though Truth abandon them. On the right is the 
Esquiline, where were the residences of Majceuas, Horace and Virgil, 
and at its base the site of that temple in which Cicero revealed to the 
senators the conspiracy of Catiline, and there the uncovered stones 
of the Via Sacra once swept by conquerors in triumph. " Here was 
the cradle of all civilized polity, the nursery where grew those forms 
of state which are yet the unshaken deities of the mortal scene, 
whose empire is deep as our nature and continuing as our race." 
These thoughts, only the substance of which is quoted, fitly express 
the emotions of a thoughtful visitor to this centre of Imperial 
Rome. 

FLAVIAN AMPHtTHEATKE. 

Then there is the other great standing memorial, not only of 
Roman power, but of the faith of the early martyrs, the Flavian 
Amphitheatre. Bishop Kip well terms it "the noblest remnant of 
old Rome" ; the spot where multitudes poured out their blood to 
bequeath a pure faith to us, and taught their pagan persecutors how 
a Christian could die! Thousands of captive Jews were employed 
in building it just after Jerusalem was destroyed. It seated 100,000 
people. Five thou.saud beasts were slain in the dedicatory games, 
and thousands of human lives were sacrificed down to the days of 
Honorius, a.d. 395. Then there came from the East a moitk. Tele- 
machus, to protest against the barbarism. In the excess of his zeal, 
he sprang into the arena to separate the combatants, but, according 
to Theodoret, was torn in pieces bj- the maddened spectators. His 
death, however, made so deep an impression that an imperial edict 
was issued prohibiting tliese public butcheries. It is said that 19.000 
were murdered in a single entertainment before Nero. The story of 
Felicitas, the noble Roman matron who was slain with the same 
sword that slew her sons, seven of whom fell martyrs to Christ; of 
Perpetua, another mother, who was deaf to the entreaties of an aged 
pagan father; and of that other Felicitas, who was, with her unborn 
child, sentenced to die in the arena — these and other thrilling remi- 
niscences crowd upon the mind as you walk under these crumbling 
arches. Making all needful abatement for the illusions of history, 
the romantic fabrications and exaggerations common to all ages; 
dividing, as Dr. Arnold suggests, the great army of martyrs slain in 
the Coliseum bj- twenty-five, or by fifty even, still this sacred spot 
remains, as Dickens well says, "the most impressive, stately, sol- 
emn, grand, majestic, mournful sight conceivable — God be thanked, 
a ruin/" The Coliseum is also connected with the downfall of the 
power of papacy as well as paganism, for in 1848 the great reformer 
Gavazzi preached in this historic enclosure his sermons of stormy 
eloquence that helped to rouse the people to arms in that March 
revolt which resulted iu the suppression of the Jesuits. The Pope 
was assailed, his minister assassinated, his secretary shot lu his own 
palace, and the so-called "Vicar of Christ" fled in a servant's guise 
to the Bavarian ambassador for shelter from his own people. God 
" setteth up one and putteth down another." The Apocalj'ptic shout 
then began, "Rejoice over her!" A Florentine journal, hearing 
that "Pope Pius wept bitterly," printed and scattered far and wide 
through Tuscany a hand-bill headed " II Papa PiAKCiE," penned in 
words of blistering invective, the last sentence of which reads: 

" Weep, Pope — weep burning tears over the tomb thou hast dug 
for thyself; weep, for Italy will yet be a great and glorious fact, 
while the popedom becomes a polluted name ; weep, for while Italy 
rises more beauteous from the stake to which thou condemnest her, 
the popedom will sink into putrefaction and decay, amidst the joy- 
ous shout of emancipated nations!" 

UNDERGKOUND SIGHTS. 

We stepped into our carriage at the entrance and drove away, 
feeling that we had lived long in those few moments, for each, as 
Goethe said on his visit there, was "an exquisite moment." Nor 
were the emotions less intense when we groped our way, candle in 
hand, through the sepulchral darkness of the Catacombs. These 
labyrinthine galleries, if stretched in one continuous line, would 
extend 900 miles, more than twice the whole length of Italy itself. 



They were begun in apostolic times, and were used as burial place* 
for Christians till the capture of the city by Alaric, a.d. 410. It is 
supposed that six millions were buried in them. Originally tiey all 
belonged to private families; hence many of the titles taken from 
their owners still survive. We selected the Calixtine, which are 
regarded the most interesting. Each of us paid half a franc. Wc 
were led through a garden to a door. Unlocking it, the guide led us 
down a score of stone steps, handed around the lighted cerini, and 
bade us follow. In this section fourteen popes are said to have been 
buried. The air did not smell the sweetest; but I suppose it was 
only filled with the odor of sanctity. The bones of some of the dead 
were left uncovered, the exposure of which elicited grave criticism. 
Queer relics have been taken out of some of the tombs, as a jumping- 
jack or jointed doll from beside the dust of a little maid ; hair-pins, 
brooches, and other articles of feminine ornament; lamps and candle- 
sticks, and the tools of a wool-carder, once supposed to be instru- 
ments of torture. 

One writer estimates that there are in this section 170,000 martyrs 
buried. I noticed the picture of the Good Shepherd, and other sym- 
bols indicative of the faith and hope of the primitive Christians. 
The dove, the vine, the olive branch and palm, the anchor, the ship, 
and the fish are everywhere found. Vases or tear-bottles are fastened 
by plaster to some tombs. Cockney ditficulties seem to have trou- 
bled people in earlj' days, for you see 'ic for hie, 'ora for hora ; and, 
on the other hand, /iossa for ossa, and /ioctobris for octobris. 

Meetings were held here, both private and public; a family by 
themselves at the cubicula, on the anniversaries of the birth and 
death of the departed, or a hundred in some larger gallery where the 
Eucharist was administered. Indications of these gatherings are 
found in records and in the architectural arrangements for chairs 
and benches when the chambers were hewn from the rock. But we 
care not to tarry long in these dens and caves of the earth, this great 
underground "libraiy, on tke shelves of which Death has arranged 
his works" — to use Abbe Gerbet's expressive figure. 

ANCIENT MEMOKIALS. 

Not far away we saw the church of the Bomine Quo Vadrs, where 
the Lord and Peter met, and where the pretended footprint of Christ 
is still exhibited. Proljably neither ever saw Rome. History points 
out the place of Paul's imprisonment and that of Iiis martyrdom with 
sufficient certainty to give one satisfaction in visiting them. I rode 
to both. The Mamertine Prison I did not find as stenchf ul and filthy 
as Sallust makes it. A modern staircase conducts to the lower dun- 
geon, which Ampi^re believes to be Pelasgic, and the oldest structure 
in Rome. The monk, our guide, held his lamp near to the sp»t 
to which the Catiline conspirators and others were fixed and stran- 
gled, one by one. Here a king, Jugurtha, was starved to death. 
Here two decemvirs committed suicide. By the door the Emperor 
Vitellius was murdered. From out this gloomy pit Cicero passed to 
the Forum one afternoon, and told the people in one word that 
Lentulus and his companions had just been executed: ViMrunt! 
"They have ceased to live!" This was the same afternoon that the 
Senate were debating what to do with them. Cato and Cicero pre- 
vailed, and the guilty were slain untried. Catiline fell in battle. As 
you step out again into the street and look towards the Temple of 
Vesta, you recall the tradition of the gulf which the oracle declared 
would never close till Rome's best gift was sacrificed. In full armof 
Marcus Curtius on horseback plunged into the abyss, which closed 
forever. 

But tliese ghastly memories are getting monotonous. Jump oa 
one of these omnibuses and ride with me over to the 

PINCIAN HILL. 

I went there one sunny afternoon about sunset and saw Rome in its 
most cheerful aspect. Take an outside seat, and watch the j>eople 
and places as you ride. There is Hilda's Tower, one of the localities 
about which Hawthorne has thrown a peculiar charm by his story of 
"Marble Faun."* There is the little window in the upper story, 



* "The path ascended a little, and ran along under the walls of a 
palace, but soon passed through a gateway and terminated in a small 
paved courtyard, bordered by a low parapet." Vol. II., p. 493. The 
street is Via Portoghese, and the tower is known as the Monkey's 
Tower. 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



■whose white curtain fair Hilda used to draw aside to let in the morning 
light, and there the white doves she loved so well, "skimming, flut- 
tering, and wheeling about the topmost height of the tower," where 
still stands the votive lamp. Now we pass the fountain of Trevi, of 
which a parting draught will ensure your safe return some day to 
Rome again — that is, if you want to come. The water must also be 
"mixed with faith" abundantly. Here is Piazza di Spagna, with an 
imposing flUght of steps leading to the Trinita. On these you see 
loimgers and groups of "models." Dickens has sketched some of 
them: the patriarch, with a long stafE; the assassin model, dressed in 
a brown cloak, and arms folded in his mantle; the lounger, the 
haughty man, the Holy Family, and "all the falsest vagabonds in 
the world." Wc stop in the Piazza del Popolo, and climb the ter- 
races of the Piucian Hill by zigzag paths shaded by the cypress and 
pine. Here gather the wealthy and the titled, soldiers and ecclesi- 
astics, foreign visitors, and groups of merry children, who in dress 
and feature present as great a contrast to those we saw an hour ago, 
as do the denizens of the Seven Dials and those of Hyde Park, in Lon- 
don. But the gay turnouts and the crowds on foot do not constitute 
the greatest attraction of the Pincian— the level lawns and gushing 
fountains, the busts and pedestals which adorn the smooth avenues. 
Rather it is the historic panorama that is spread out before you as 
you sit on the broad parapet; more interesting, in many respects, 
than any other on which the sun shines. How many in the days of 
Cifisar used to sup here, guests of Lucullus, in his beautiful Piucian 
villa! Plutarch says that these sumptuous gardens, baths, statues, 
and other works of art furnished by this wealthy general surpassed 
in luxury and ma.gnificence even those of kings. Here the fifth wife 
of Claudius, the infamous Messalina, revelled with her paramours, 
till the order came from the emperor that she must die. "The hot 
blood of the wanton smoked on the pavement, and stained with a 
deeper hue the variegated marbles of Lucullus." At one end of the 
Pincian are the Borghese gardens, and at the other those of the Villa 
Medici. The latter are beautified by borders of box, arches of ilex, 
a,nd seats of mossy stone, sculptured fountains, and flower-beds. The 
former are three miles in circuit, and enriched with the remains of 
early art, vases, sepulchral monuments, shattered pillars, and broken 
arches. Hawthorne's "Transformation" has a graphic picture of 
this sylvan retreat, threaded with avenues of cypress, like the dark 
flames of funeral candles; brightened by beds of violets, daisies, and 
rosy anemones, and full of dreamy quietude and languid enjoyment. 
Of this exquisite scene he says: "The final charm is bestowed by the 
malaria. There is a piercing, thrilling, delicious kind of regret in 
the idea of so much beauty being thrown away, or only enjoyable at 
its half development in winter and earl}' spring, and never to be 
dwelt amongst as the home scenery of any human being. For if you 
come liither in summer, and stray through these glades in the golden 
sunset, fever walks arm-in-arm with you and death awaits you at the 
end of the dim vista." It is sunset now, and we will not take that 
risk, but rather stroll along the brilliant Corso. Yet tarry on this 
parapet long enough to fix some of these landmarks, by which this 
picture may be remembered. The bTue hills enclose the wide Cam- 
pagua, through which the winding Tiber flows to the sea, seen in a 
clear sky far away beyond Ostia, and once the home of four millions 
of people. St. Peter's forms the central object, " the world's cathe- 
dral, the grandest edifice ever built by man, painted against God's 
loveliest sky." To the right is the Vatican, and in front is the Castle 
of St. Angelo, once a lofty, graceful pile of Parian marble, with 
gilded dome, a magnificent imperial mausoleum, but now a dingy 
prison. Beatrice Cenci is said to have been incarcerated there. To 
the left of St. Peter's is the steep coast of Janiculura, where once 
the Temple of Janus opened its gates at the sound of war, but closed 
them with returning peace. Further to the left is the Forum, the 
Tai-peian Rock, and the site of the Campus Mfu'tius, now built over. 
Hard by was the Temple of Apollo, erected e.c. 430, near which for- 
eign ambassadors were received before their entrance into Rome, 
anji victorious generals paused to hear the decree of the Senate 
which gave them a triumphal welcome. Here 3000 followers of 
Marius were murdered by Scylla after he had promised them their 
lives, their dying cries being noticed by the Senate, in session at the 
Temple of Bellona. But the mass of buildings and the thronging 
memories of this " broadest page of history" bewilder. 



Hark! what is that melody that breaks the stillness of the evening? 
A vesper hymn, chanted in a neighboring church or convent, faintly 
borne in tremulous waves of song, rising and falling like the swell 
of the sea ; 

' ' Ave, Regina, coelorum 

Ave, Domina angelorum 

Salve radix, Salve porta, 

Ex qua mundo lux est, orta, 

Gaude Virgo gloriosa, 

Super omnes speciosa; 

Vale, O valde decora 

Et pro nobis Christum exora." 

It reminds us that the worship of mortals has not yet ceased in 
this city of ancient paganism. As the old temples and altars remain, 
so' too does much of the idolatrous superstition of earlier years con- 
tinue. 

STREET LU'E. 

The Corso is the central street of Rome, narrow and in-egular, but 
bright and busy, particularly in the evening. Here are shops of all 
kinds, and cafes with large mirrors and brilliant lamps. French is 
quite commonly spokeu. You are struck with tlie great number of 
priests in the streets, two or three usually walking together. One of 
them was assassinated not long before my arrival, by an Italian, who 
remarked, as he stabbed him, " We have had enough of them." 
Some of the faces of the women show, as Hillard says, " passion and 
peril slumbering in their depths; a strange mixture of animal tender- 
ness and animal fierceness; a volcanic force which, at a moment's 
warning, might break out in explosions of love, hatred, jealousy or 
reveuge." The Corso is gayest at the time of the Carnival, when the 
wildest enthusiasm prevails, and the most grotesque costumes and 
decorations are displayed. "Every sort of bewitching madness 
of dress — scarlet jackets; quaint old stomachers; Polish pelisses, 
strained and tight as ripe gooseberries; tiny Greek caps, all awry; 
flowing .skirts and dainty waists; laughing faces, gallant figures that 
they make!" "At nightfall the Corso becomes a cloud of fire, 
which shines out from many a torch and lantern. Red, green, blue, 
and many a gay color flashes on the sight, until the whole scene be- 
comes one of bewitching beauty." Every one trios to extinguish his 
neighbor's light. Oranges and bunches of flowers are hurled at 
lanterns, while some from balconies fish with hook and line for 
candles, or perform some other roguish trick upon those who are ia 
the street below. 

ST. Peter's. 

Rome is a many-leaved picture book. It would take a long time 
to see all the churches, galleries, studios, museums, gardens, tombs, 
palaces and basilicas. Tourists must be content to leave unseen a 
great proportion of its countless treasures of ancient and mediiEval 
art, and those historic localities in and near the city, about which 
cluster the most romantic interest. With two friends I visited St. 
Peter's, on a Roman holiday. The bells rang out joyous peals as we 
crossed the square. The sweeping colonnade ; the granite obelisk, 
brought by Caligula from Egypt; the fountains on either side; the 
colossal statues and the towering dome, rising 609 feet in. a cloudless 
sky — these crowded on our view with bewildering effect, as we 
alighted at the entrance. Dismissing the vctturino, we leisurely ex- 
amined the red monolith, once a pagan idol, now bearing the inscrip- 
tion, "Christus Regnat." One recalls the thrilling scene three 
hundred years ago, when it was raised and would have fallen but 
for the cry of the sailor Bresca, who shouted — when death was 
threatened to any one who spoke — "Acqua alle funi"— " Wet, the ropes." 
The Easter palms are still procured of his native village, and used in 
the annual pageant of St. Peter's. We then entered this wonderful 
edifice, which covers some half dozen acres, which employed in its 
erection the time and treasures of forty-three popes, or three hundred 
years and sixty millions of dollars; which is kept in repair at an 
annual expense of thirty thousand, and which, in its magnificent ' 
appointments and gathered treasures, mocks comparison with any- 
building reared by man. It is useless to repeat the impressions 
made, as the surprising beauty and magnitude of the interior met 
our gaze. Mendelssohn said it seemed as a forest in the undistin- 
guishable mass of details, all sense of measurement being lost in the 
overwhelming grandeur that expands the heart. Another speaks of 
an oppression of the heart T\fith a sense of suffocation, of the nature 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



of ■which you neither know nor ask. Frederika Bremer says truly 
that it is a Pantheon rather than a church. ' ' The sesthctic intellect is 
edified more than the God-loving or the God-seckiug soul. The ex- 
terior and interior appear more like an apotheosis of the poi>edom 
than a glorification of Christianity and its doctrine." One writer 
regards the gorgeous ceremonies of St. Peter's as ' ' grand and sub- 
lime in the highest degree," another as " puerile, tawdry and 
wearisome." * 

One cannot forget that vast sums required to complete this build- 
ing were gained by the sale of indulgences, and that the disgusting 
abuses under Tetzel led Luther to nail up his theses in 1517, and so 
initiate the Reformation. 

IDOI, WORSHIP. 

One of the first objects that attracted us was the old heathen idol 
of Jupiter, a statue in bronze, about which a crowd of men, women 
and children pressed with apparently sincere adoration, bowing to 
it, caressing and kissing the extended foot of what is now christened 
Peter. The mother or father lifted the little child to rub its lips on 
the metal toe, and jrouths stood on tiptoe to reach the same; while 
some more fastidious ones wiped from the dirty foot, with a hand- 
kerchief, the moisture of previous mouths. Bishop Kip asks the 
question: "Has the Romanist any reason to laugh at the poor Mus- 
sulman, who performs a pilgrimage to Mecca, to kiss the black stone 
of the Caaba? On St. Peter's Day this idol is clothed in magnificent 
robes, the gemmed tiara placed on its head, the jewelled collar on 
its neck, soldiers stationed by its side, and candles burning about it. 
A clergyman of the Church of England told me that the effect of 
the black image thus arrayed was perfectly ludicrous; and, with the 
people all kneeling before it, had he not known that he was in a 
Christian church, he should have supposed himself in a heathen 
temple, and that the idol." The ridiculous worship of the wooden 
doll Bambino, kept in Ara Ca3li, is of the same character. We did 
ask for a sight of the veritable spear with which the Redeemer was 
pierced — there are others exhibited elsewhere just as genuine; nor of 
the handkerchief that holds the impression of his face — there are 
six other rivals, one having four bulls to back up its claims, and an- 
other fourteen bulls; nor a piece of the true cross, and so on, ad 
nauseam. But all the mummery here witnessed need not divert one 
from that which is beautiful in art or suggestive in history. I was 
impressed with tlie wise policy of those who, believing in the utility 
of the confessional, furnish boxes for a score or more nationalities, 
so that Europeans, Orientals, Occidentals, Accidentals, Papists and 
Ape-ists are all accommodated, a,s they may chance to visit Rome, 
and may wish to unburden their hearts to a fellow-sinner behind the 
lattice. If they would make mutual disclosures the act would be 
more scriptural. "Confess your faults one to another." 

The Vatican and Sistine Chapel ; the hoary old Inquisition, with 
its machines of torture and dungeons of bloody memories ; the gar- 
dens and other localities contiguous, need not be described in detail. 
We must leave many places unvisited, and leave undescribed many 
places which were visited, but an account of which belongs rather 
to art criticism than to a picture of out-door life. Let no one omit 
Rome because he has only a few days to tarry. If he is prepared to 
see this centre of the world's history, one day, even, brings a stimu- 
lus to thought, and memory, and imagination that never can be lost. 
Said President Felton, of Harvard University: " The first hour after 
the sight of Rome greets you is perhaps the most memorable in the 
life of an educated man; it is impossible to describe it." He was 
there but forty-eight hours, but he calls them "two glorious days," 
as well he might. Pew, however, have eyes like his, for it is with 
memory we see. Culture creates an atmosphere in which the scholar 
enjoys that which mere eyesight cannot discern. Such a one comes 
to Rome as to a long-familiar spot, and comes not for cliickens and 
champagne, or to scatter money in wasteful folly, but to verify and 
actualize what has long lived in his imagination as a part of the per- 
manent fixtures of his intellectual life. 

ENVIRONS OF ROME. 

Of the environs of the city the hurrying summer visitor sees 
nothing, yet a bulky book like Hare's "Days Near Rome" is needed 



* "Manning's Italian Pictures, " p. 93. 



merely to outline the almost endless variety of sights within the 
encompassing Alban and Sabine Hills, the land of Latium, or among 
the more distant Volscian Heights. If but one excursion can fx 
made, I would say, though not from personal knowledge, that Tivoli 
is the place of all the most alluring. It is eighteen miles distant, 
and the delight of painters and poets. Adrian's Villa has' been 
robbed of its picturesqueness by the ruthless hand of Signor Rosa, 
he who stripped the Coliseum of its floral loveliness. Still you can 
live over again in fancy, as you stand by the juniper's shade, 
the scenes when these baths, academies, porticos, and theatres were 
the haunts of luxury and pleasure ; when the agonies of Prometheus 
were here rehearsed; when these grounds echoed to song, and shout, 
and soldier step. The Emperor had his spacious barracks for the 
Pretorian Guards, also a miniature Valo of Tempe, and a flower 
plain known as Elysian Fields. Onward you walk, ascending the 
hill of Tivoli, and think of Brutus and Cassius who fled hither 
after the murder of Caisar; of Zenobia, the captive queen of Pal- 
myra, who was kept here in custody after she had graced the triumph 
of Aurelian; of the Sibyl and of the Sirens, whose caves are near. 
An artificial cascade, 320 feet high, was opened in 1834. The Villas 
of M83cenas and Quintiiius Varus, so called, and that of D'Este, 
with their arcades of acacias and masses of lilacs and roses, com- 
plete the picture, touched " with the gray mists of an antiquity five 
hundred years older than Rome, and a purple light thrown over all, 
drawn from the poetry of Horace, Catullus and Propertius." 

NAPLES AND POMPEH. 

Seven hours are required to make the trip from Rome to Naples, 
a distance of 163 miles. The ride was a hot and dusty one and the 
pictures of Italian life were not attractive. Numerous fortified 
towns compactly built on heights, with a prominent church tower in 
the centre, wore a feudal look. Scattered villages were passed through 
where the rural population inhabited straw thatched cottages, low 
and dirty, with unmistakable signs of social degradation on every 
hand. Girls and women bending under huge burdens walked along 
the roads in the scorching sun, sometimes hanging for support to the 
tail of a donkey, who was almost hidden by his burden of corn in 
the ear. Filthy, crippled and deformed beggars crowd about the 
fence that surrounds railway stations, and utter a monotonous cry 
for money. The condition of the peasantry in the interior and 
mountain villages is less deplorable. The scarcity of water is notice- 
able and the methods of irrigation by men and mules are quite inter- 
esting. The ancient threshing floors and men pounding and beating 
out grain; the hemp fields; the cactus, lemon and fig with other trop- 
ical productions remind us that we are nearing southern Italy. 

If one has the leisure to make the journey by carriage in short and 
easy stages as did Horace, B.C. 41, described in his fifth Satire, he will 
pass many classic places which the railway does not reach, such aa 
the spot where Coriolanus yielded to the solicitations of his mother 
and wife, withdrawing the Volscian army and saying as he did 
so, "O mother, thou has saved Rome, but destro3'ed thy son I" — the 
locality where Milo slew Publius Clodius, a crime that called from 
Cicero a powerful but ineffectual defence ; the site of the palace of 
Circe, and the prisons where Ulysses' companions were confined after 
their metamorphosis by the sorceress; the convent where Thomas 
Aquinas studied; the tower raised to Cicero by his freedman on 
the ground where the orator was slain by the sword of Poplius, 
both of his hands and head being carried back to Rome and exposed 
at the Rostra, and the meeting place where the praetor Lucus and 
the poet Horace, dressed in purple and preceded by youthful 
maidens scattering incense, were presented to Maecenas, the noble 
favorite of Augustus. Arpinum, the birthplace of Tully, south- 
east of Rome, and the Fuciue lake and tunnel, are also noteworthy 
stopping places. The latter cost the labor of 30,000 men during 
eleven years. When finished, Claudius celebrated the event by the 
butchery of three triremes of men in a mock naval battle. Few, 
however, choose a lengthened, zigzag journey, but push on by rail 
to Naples. 

CLASSIC SnKROUNDINOe. 

Naples, or New City, so called since the Punic wars, was founded, 
according to tradition, by a Syren, Parthenope; or by one of the 
Argonauts B. c. 1300. It was for a long ti me a Greek city in language. 



OUTDOOR LIFK IN KllfOHK 



•govevument and customs. Tloman exiles took rofugc here and the 
last Empuror Augustulus retired to one of its forts when detliroued 
A.D. 47(J. Virgil made Naples his favorite residence as he says, "In 
Mantua born, but in Calabria bred, 'tis Naples owns me now, whose 
pastoral charge and rural toils and arms I sung." His tomb is in a 
vineyard on the outskirts, but where his dust is nobody knows with 
any more certainty than as to where Peter's body lies. While hinting 
at the classic environs, the cave of the Cumsean Sibyl, where ./Eneas 
came to gain information, the Temple of AjK)llo, Lake Avernus, and 
the Phlegr^ean fields should be mentioned. These romances were 
embellished and e.xaggerated by the Greek poets. The forests about 
the dark and birdless lake were dedicated to Hecate. Here, it is 
said, Ulysses descended in the lower Cimmerian darkness and evoked 
the dead, as told in the Odyssey. 

Virgil's Tartarus is easily reached — that is, by men. Headley tells 
of hia passage through the darkness and the water on the back of his 
guide. The red light of his torch flung a glare on the rocks over- 
head, and on the black-smeared face of the carrier, till it seemed as 
if he had really reached the infernal world astride the devil's back. 
He almost heard the bark of Cerberus and the roar of the Cocytus as 
he splashed through the water along gloomy galleries. There was 
an English lady whose curiosity was roused to see the Sybil's baths 
in these Stygian depths. "Without thinking hoxri she was to be 
■carried, she was just adjusting her dress, when the guide, stooping 
down, suddenly inserted her carefully astraddle of his neck and 
plunged into the water. The squeal that followed would have 
frightened all the Sybils of the mountains out of their grottos. It 
was too late, however, to retreat. The passage was too narrow to 
turn round in, and she was compelled to enter the first chamber be- 
fore she could be relieved from her predicament. Wlien she came 
again into the daylight a more astonished and pitiable looking object 
I never beheld. Her elegant bonnet was blackened and crushed, 
and she stood fingering it with an absent look, uttering now and 
then an expression of horror at what she had passed through. " * 

The Island of Capri may be mentioned in this connection. The 
Emperor Tiberius made it notorious for his debaucheries. He 
reared twelve villas and dedicated them to as many gods. The Blue 
Grotto, with its lustrous water and stalactite roof, is a place of nota- 
ble interest. "The waters arc the brightest, loveliest blue that can be 
imagined," says Mr. Clemens. "No tint could be more ravishing, 
no lustre more superb. Throw a stone into the water and the my- 
riad of tiny bubbles that are created flash out a brilliant glare like 
blue theatrical fires. Dip an oar and its blade turns to splendid 
frosted silver, tinted with blue. Let a man jump in and instantly 
he is cased in an armor more gorgeous than ever kingly Crusader 
wore." 

MEMORIES OP PAUL. 

But of all these seashore resorts ancient PtiTEOLi will most inter- 
est the Christian traveller, as being the part where a corn ship from 
Alexandria once landed a Roman prisoner, Paul the Apostle, on his 
way to Csesar's judgment seat. The Castor and Pollux had had a fine 
nm of 180 miles that day from Rhcgium, as we learn from Acts 
38 : 13. This spacious port was the Liverpool of Italy, and afforded 
secure anchorage for countless vessels. It had a conspicuous light- 
house, which would have been a welcome sight to the belated, storm- 
tossed captive, who had been four months on his way from Ca;sarea. 
He looked across the beautiful bay and saw Vesuvius, not as now, 
scarred and black with eruptions, but clothed with vineyards, while 
the cities of the plain were lying unharmed beneath its shadow. A 
few years lat^r these were destroyed as Sodom of old. Among the 
victims was Drusilla and the child born of her adulterous union with 
Pelix. The apostle's warnings of a judgment to come had made 
them tremble, but had not led to repentance. Perhaps the approach 
of that fire-storm, as Professor Butler suggests, may have awakened 
in her breast the forgotten appeals which Paul made at Caesarea in 
Herod's judgment hall. Josephus, Strabo, Pliny, and the many 
biographers of Paul give us a vivid picture of the Naples of that 
day, and the historic associations that invest it with special interest. 
The promontories of Minerva and Misenum, with their villas and 
gardens; the Isle of Capri and the curving Campanian coast, bright 



* J. T. Headley's "Letters from Italy," p. 95. 



bcueat.li the blue sky of early spring; the expectant throng on the 
pier, drawn together by the sight of the unfurled topsail, which 
Seneca says was the honorable distinction of the grain ships from 
Egypt that brought food to imperial granaries; the landing of the 
military and their manacled prisoner; their delay of a week by 
the courtesy of Julius, and the eager colloquy with the Jews; the 
walk along the " Consular Way," of which Horace speaks, 
and relics of which are seen to-day in fragments of pavements and 
milestones; tlie Appian Way, the Queen of roads, with its motley 
throng of people on foot and in carriages, and the objects of engag- 
ing interest to one of scholarly tastes, like the Apostle, pointed out 
by the brctliren with him, who were not ashamed of his chain — these 
and other reminiscences make the city which we are about to enter 
one of the most attractive of any in Italy. 

Emerging from the stately railway station, Dr. S., a New York 
surgeon, my associate on this trip from Rome, took with me an open 
carriage for the Hotel Boaurivage, some throe miles away in the up- 
per quarters of the city, beyond the Castle of St. Elmo. Our direct 
course was by the famous Toledo, the oft-described avenue which is 
perhaps the noisest. most bustling and most bewildering in Europe. 
No play before theatric scenes can compare with the exciting, amus- 
ing, disgusting, delighting, ever-changing phantasmagoria of this great 
thoroughfare. Here is a city of half a million, whose temperature 
is such as allows one to live out-door most of the year. 

NEAPOLITAN LIFE. 

For pleasure and for toil the open air is sought. The various 
craftsmen at work add picturesqucucss to the view as you ride along; 
the tiulor, prci>aring garments; the cobbler, hammering a shoe ; the 
joiner, pushing his plane; the juggler, playing his tricks; the scribe, 
insensible of the jargon, taking down the messages directed by the 
unlettered; the poulterer plucking his fowls; the cook making ready 
his macaroni; the scullion scouring his pans; the b.arber lathering 
dusky faces ; the buffoon, the soldier, the mattress maker, and the veg- 
etable vender; the dirty monk and crippled beggar crying for alms; 
the story-teller, reciting, for a few centimes, tales of war or songs of 
love; the travelling Esculapius shouting his drugs, and the stooping 
crone mumbling aloud the hymn or prayer as an appointed penance. 
Then there are the screaming, swearing muleteers and cartmen beat- 
ing their donkey with unmerciful stripes as they try to draw the 
heavy, overloaded carts up the high hill. The society with a long 
name would have business enough here to employ a thousand 
agents. 

Then the pcdestrains who, in absence of sidewalks in many places, 
take the streets; men, women, and children of all sorts and condi- 
tions; some well dressed or uniformed, but oftener those of tavray 
skin and greaisy smell ; the younger of both sexes with scant atthe 
and with as little modesty, attending to the calls of nature in quite 
conspicuous places; naked babes in motherly arms; laborers with, 
little more on than a simple covering about the loins such as bathers 
wear; fruit venders and lemonade carriers dodging in and out be- 
tween the vehicles and yelling all the while; army ofiicers with 
clanking spurs and shining scabbards; navy captains in blue and 
gold; sailors and newsboys, priests and friars; gendarmes, cattle 
drivers, and charcoal sellers — these are some of the .50,000 which, it 
is .said, may at any hour of the day be found on the Toledo or along 
the grand Piazza, in a babbling, yelling, crushing, confusing crowd, 
with 1500 different vehicles besides, to say nothing of those on horse 
back. The "bright eyes, raven tresses, and musical voice of the 
Neapolitans," of which some glowing writers speak, are absent from 
the picture. 

The patois spoken is abominable. Pure Italian would be unintel- 
ligible to the lowest class. The poetry of the scene you expected is 
lost in the prosy facts about you; "in bright-eyed daughters of Italy 
who do not know their own mother tongue ; in the streets where 
flowers and filth, fruit and folly arc seen in delightful kindred, and 
where one third of the people we meet remind us of the plagTie in 
pantaloons and the small-pox in the unwashed chemise of the 
maiden ; in palaces at the doors of which women sit in filth and 
wretchedness, raking out the matted, tangled hair which grows on 
the senseless pates of each otlier, and in nightly assassinations and 
daily debauches. Poets may portray Naples as one of the outposts 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



of Paradise itself, but to me (says Dr. Eddy) it will be asssociated 
with a fallen, degraded, dishonored, enslaved and besotted people."* 

SOCIAL DEGRADATION. 

He adds one picture which I did not notice, the performances of 
monks before a wayside shrine. A rude cross held an efiigy of the 
Redeemer. One of the monks declaimed vehemently, and two, 
with whining voices, passed among the crowd gathering money. 
The driver uncovered as he passed by, but confessed that he had no 
faith in the ceremony to which he had been taught, as a devout Cath- 
olic, to pay homage. An intelligent Roman told me the same. The 
great danger now lies in the direction of infidelity; the natural swing 
from the degrading social servitude under which these prieat-ridden 
people^ have been so long groaning. Now that railroads, tele- 
graphs and political revoluti«ns have scattered much of the super- 
stitioas of the past, unless the Gospel is received, scepticism is the 
sure result. 

In Naples, as in Cuba and elsewhere, you see the alternate worship 
and whipping of their gods. " Harper's Weekly" (1873, page 516) 
has a large picture of the chastisement of Januarius, the patron saint 
of Naples, because the idol did not stay the eruption of Vesuvius. 
The bottled blood of the martyr is one of the peep-shows that please 
people who are still in their intellectual infancy. It has sometimes 
happened that the trick is unsuccessful. On one occasion the blood 
refused to liquefy. A mob was the result. The military were order- 
ed out, and the officer in command told the ecclesiastical juggler 
that if he didn't at once go into "liquidation" or liquefaction busi- 
ness he would lose his head in ten minutes! The miracle (?) was at 
once performed, the sword dissolved the saint! 

But here we are at our hotel, far away from the surging, shouting 
crowds of the lower quarters of Naples; high up above the sounds 
and smells, through which we passed without harm. One guide- 
book, referring to these offensive odors, soberly advises the reader 
to take a drink of brandy every time his olfactories are offended! 
One would need to carry a cask of liquor on his shoulders to run 
his factories with. Better run them with water. We are welcomed 
to quiet, elegant quarters by an English lady, who is manager of this 
palace-hotel. Rooms, with piano, balcony, and other felicitous 
adjuncts, are opened to us, fronting on the bay, commanding a 
maritime view probably unequalled in the world. It is the hour 
before sunset, balmy and still. Like " the sea of glass mingled with 
ire," seen in prophetic vision, the Bay of Naples at our feet shim- 
mers beneath the lustrous light of a cloudless Italian sky. The rosy 
and purple tints clothe the sombre slopes of Vesuvius with a veil of 
beauty as fair as when Tasso, born under its shadows, used to look 
up into these same summer skies. Sorrento, Castlemare, Portici, 
and other villages along the coast, are embowered in gardens, gx-oves, 
iind vineyards where the ripening grape, tiie oleander, the citron, 
and the fig are found. Seaward, the blue Mediterranean glows as 
the sun hastens to hide behind the isle of Ischia, lighting up again 
its ancient volcano, as it were, with crimson fires. This region seems 
Bot of eai'th. As Rogers asks, 

" Was it not dropt from heaven? Not a grove 
But breathes enchantment! Not a cliff but flings 
On the clear wave some image of delight — 
From daybreak to that hour, the last and best, 
When, one by one, the fishing boats came forth, 
Each with its glimmering lantern at the prow. 
And, when the nets are thrown, the evening hymn 
Steals over the trembling waters. " 

laaak Walton did Avell to ask, " If God gives such beauty for us 
sinful creatures here on earth, what must he not have prepared for 
his saints in heaven !" 

A long ride, however, and an hour's delay in getting s-upper, had 
■whetted our appetite for meaner things. This interruption was 
temporary, and the mellow air drew us out again. The stars once 
more looked down into the quiet bay. The flashing lights along the 
lAiore twinkled in the dark waters. The din of Naples was only a 
distant murmur, varied now and then by toll of bell or waft of music 
iiom the band in the gardens below. But the central object, which 



" Europa," page 319. 



made us forget everything else, was the lurid flame of the famous 
volcano, not discernible by day, but flaring up now with ominoue 
look every few seconds. It was the first sight of the kind we had 
seen. It had a strange fascination. It was gi-and, awful, sublime, 
magnificent, etc. We used up all the adjectives we could think of 
— one must be excused for occasional redundancy, specially in de- 
scribing an object like this volcano, which occasionally "slops over" 
itself — and then we telegraphed to an American friend in Rome to 
come down the next day, without fail, and see Vesuvius. He did 
not care to see this "old, inveterate smoker" enough to take the 
fatiguing trip, and so he went back to New York without even the 
smell of its fire in his garments. Now that a railway is finished to 
the summit, one can visit the mountain with more satisfaction than 
formerly. 

During your stay in Naples the Museum, of course, will be visited. 
It is an ex'cellent preparative for a visit to Pompeii, for it presents, 
as Hillard has observed, an epitome of the daily domestic life of a 
Roman 1800 years ago, so that you can follow the hours of the day 
in their duties and amusements; can recline with the nobleman at 
his meals, criticise his furniture, his dishes of food ; can enter his 
wife's dressing-room, see her jewels, mirrors and rouge; can look 
into the kitchen and see the charcoal m the brazier, the water in the 
urn, and the simmering juices in the saucepan. You can, he says, 
accompany the student to his library, the surgeon to his patients, 
the artisan to his shop, the fanner to the field, the citizen to the 
theatre, or the gambler to his den. Here are loaded dice, which 
show that money was gained then, as now, by fraud ; tickets of 
admission to the games ; and, most interesting of all, various fruits, . 
and loaves of wheat bread baked eighteen centuries ago. They 
appeared to be well done — in fact, a little stale. The stamp of the 
baker was clear. It indicated which loaf was made of wheat arid 
which of bean flour. The average weight of each is a pound. Like 
the Sicilian loaves to-day, they are round, depressed in the middle, 
raised on the edge, and divided into eight sections. The olives are 
soft and pungent to the taste, and so perfectly preserved by the 
air-tight encrustations that you might imagine them recently 
gathered. 

The garments of the dead were charred, and some nearly reduced 
to ashes, while sandals and other articles were only blackened. The 
pi-ocess of restoring burnt MS. and the work of translating the in- 
scriptions interested us much. An Italian attache showed us into 
another room, in which we made a short stay. He could not speak 
English, but the lamps, ornaments, and frescoes spoke of the loath- 
some private life of many of the Pompeiians. It is a shame even to 
speak of the thing's done of them in secret. The room is closed to 
women. The words over the door explain the reason : Occsiti Osceiu 
— " Obscene Objects." For a franc you can buy a railway ticket to 
the resuscitated city, a dozen miles from Naples. Two more francs 
admit you and furnish you with a guide. He wears thin clothes, a 
military cap, and sword. He is not allowed to receive anj- fees; 
but watch hira. ToAvards the end of the hour's tramp he will ask 
you, with a half-whisper, in broken English, if you have tobacco 
about you, and remind you that he is not allowed to have any cash 
gratuity. Dr. S. and myself gave him a piece — that is, a piece of 
our mind as to tobacco, also sundry centimes. A hanger-on, perhaps 
an unoccupied workman, darted suddenly from out an angle of a 
ruined temple and handed us each a bunch of maiden-hair, a mu<ii 
esteemed fern. He was silent, but grinning, and he made emphatic 
gestures to indicate that it was a gift, a pure act of unselfish benevo- 
lence on his part, and that any idea of reward had never entered his 
head. But as soon as he retreated again to his hiding-place, out of 
sight of the oflicer, the old rog-ue thrust out one hand for money 
most earnestly, and played a vigorous pantomime with the other 
hand and with his facial muscles, which told us, plainer than words 
could speak, that he was watched by the other fellow, and that be 
did want some of our loose coin ever so much. He got some, too. 
Who can blame them? They live on macaroni and sti-angers. 

THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 

We were first shown into a mortuary museum ; a sombre prelude 
to the scenes which were to follow. Nothing more thrillingly im- 
pressive could be conceived than these rows of petrified bodies of 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



41 



man, bird, and beast, exhumed after eighteen centuries, and still 
exhibiting the marks of the pain and horror which attended their 
living entombment. The swooning fugitives fell one by one, 
sometimes locked in each other's embrace, and sometimes huddled 
together. Seventeen bodies in a standing posture were found in the 
wine cellar of Diomed. A mother and three children sunk together 
beneath the sulphurous showers; a young man and maid, near the 
baths, clasped in each other's arms; a woman clutching her bag of 
gold, and the soldier grasping his spear. You will see here a giant 
frame, the limbs straight as if calmly placed, the sandals laced, and 
the nails in the soles distinct; the iron ring on the linger, the 
moustache clinging to his lip, and the aspect of the whole that of 
resoluteness and courage. Here is a girl, not over fifteen, who fell 
in running. She had covered her face, and the bent fingers show 
that she held fast the tunic or veil. Her arms are bare, and the 
short sleeves are rent. The stitches of her dress, the smooth flesh, 
and the delicate embroidery of her shoes are clearly seen. There is 
another figure, representing what once was a Pompeian lady of 
wealth, as shown by the delicate hand and silver rings; the keys, 
jewels, costly urns, and ninety-one pieces of coin found under her 
body. The texture of her clothes and her head-dress are distinct. 
Hers was a death of anguish and continued agony, as indicated by 
the swollen and convulsed body. Another had 137 silver coins and 
69 of gold, and fell near the Herculaneum Gate. The priest of Isis 
had cut through two walls, and fell, suffocated, at the foot of the 
third, grasping his axe. The prisoners in the barrack, riveted to an 
iron rack; the mule in the bakery; the horses sliut up in the tavern 
of Albinus; the goat with the bell tied to its neck; a dove in a 
garden niche, refusing to leave her nest; a dog with head extended, 
as if uttering his last, smothered moan, the ivory point of a tooth 
shining clean and bright — these all tell of the sudden, pitiless, 
overpowering calamity as no pen is able to do. 

Photograph and engraving have made Pompeii a familiar object. 
Our afternoon ramble need not be described in detail. More than 
half of this city has been opened, and less than 700 bodies of the 
3000 who perished have been found. Its population at the time of 
its destruction, August 24th, 79, was 30,000. The first explorations 
were made by Charles III. of Kaples, in 1748, but not till 1860 did 
work begin in earnest. The eruption of 79 changed the physical 
configuration of the district, diverting the course of the river Sarno 
and pushing back the sea, which once washed its walls, as some be- 
lieve. The region is volcanic, and a few years before its final over- 
throw an earthquake had destroyed many public and private build- 
ings of Pompeii. Pliny the younger was stationed at Misenum at 
the time of the final overthrow. He describes the horror of the 
hour; the black smoke that suddenly burst from Ve.suvius and 
^read over the cloudless sky hke the shade of a mighty tree till all 
was dark; the shrieks of men, women and diildren seeking each 
other, but knowing each other only by their cries; invocations to the 
gods ; the falling of the ashes like a funeral pall, the fringes of which 
touched Africa on the south and Rome on the north, leading the peo- 
ple there to say " The world is overturned"; the appearance of the 
stars, and finally the sun, pallid as if in an eclipse. The stifling 
aahes were followed by showers of hot stones and torrents of black 
mud, which formed an encasing cement which sealed up till now 
the secrets and treasm-es of this gay and godless city. The tell-tale 
inscriptions are a very instructive study. School-boys scrabbled on 
the wall as now; lovers jotted here and there an amorous sentence; 
wits wrote their jokes and scholars their epigrams; wine bibbers 
and tennis players, cynic and sceptic, trader and slave have all 
left their contributions to the record of the social life of their day. 
The tavern keeper at the sign of the Elephant tells you that he has 
recently fitted up his house with "a triclinium, three beds, and 
every convenience;" an artist invokes the wrath of Venus on any 
ruthless hand that dare deface his outdoor painting on the wall of a 
shop; the loser of a jar promises a reward for its return, and double 
the amount for the thief himself; a candidate for sedile begs a vote, 
with the avowal that he may some day make an effice for his friend; 
and on street corners the city fathers have left notifications which 
•ommand that no one commit nuisance. 

Eight gates opened into the town. The narrow streets, from ten 
to fifteen feet wide, are paved with blocks of lava stone and worn 



by ox team. Fording blocks seem to indicate that the water ran 
deep on rainy days. Suspended overhead were balconies, from 
which a basket could be let down for food or fruits brought along 
the street, and and at which the Pompeian girl stood as she " culled 
the kiss" from her lips, as was the ancient custom, and threw it to 
her lover as he passed. 

Entering one of the roofless dwellings you see the warning, Cave 
CANBM, or read under your feet the welcome. Salve. Lifting your 
right foot first — for to enter with the left foremost was ominous to a 
Roman — you pass the entry way, where a slave was sometimes 
chained, into the atrium, in the centre of which is the impluvium or 
pool of water. To the right and left are cubieula, tiny cells for 
sleepers, about as large as a state-room on a steamer, with an eleva- 
tion of solid masonry instead of a bedstead. On these skins or 
mattresses were laid. The number and size of apartments varied ac- 
cording to the wealth of the owner; so also did the frescoes, decora- 
tions and furniture. The dresses and toilet of the ladies were very 
elaborate. Their love of baubles was excessive. Not only did they 
bore their flesh for them, as other pagan nations do, but loaded ev- 
ery finger with trinkets; legs, arms and shoulders as well. Their 
slaves pared their nails and applied perfumes and pigments; dressed 
them in their loose rich robes which, with matrons, came to the 
feet, but with simple citizens' wives and daughters came scarcely 
down to their knees, so as to leave exposed the ornaments referred to. 
A Roman sometimes bathed seven times a day, The remains of the 
thermae, the hypocaust, the reservoir, and even some of the rosin 
with which the fires were kindled under the boilers, are very sug- 
gestive. The daily avocations are also traced with startling vivid- 
ness. Here you see the yellow stain which the amphora made on 
the liquor dealer's pavement, or which the goblet left on the marble 
counter, the drink being very strong. You will find the druggist's 
pills and liquids; the medicine chest with a groove for the spatula, 
the forceps to hold an artery and the probe to open a wound; scal- 
pels, hooks, needles and cupping glasses — fully three hundred articles 
in the surgical line. In the color merchant's shop were discovered 
the mineral and vegetable substances which were used in their rare 
paintings; in the barber's, the unguents and soaps just as they were 
left on that fateful August morning; in the mill the huge stones 
turned by beast and sometimes by slaves, whose eyes had been put 
out as were Samson's; in the bakery the troughs where the dough 
was worked, the arched oven, the ash hole, and the vase which held 
the water which was sprinkled on the crust and made it glisten as 
does the baker's bread you eat in Italy to-day. The dyer's shop and 
the fuller's; the grocery and the perfumery establishment; the places 
of amusement and of worship are full of attractiveness, not only to 
the archaeologist, but to the tourist. The rampart surrounding the 
amphitheatre where gladiatorial shows were held is pierced with 
holes. In them were once fixed an iron grating to guard against 
the bounds of the panthers. The ditch about this low wall was filled 
with water to intimidate the elephants, who were thought to fear this 
element. The study of the inscriptions is better understood now 
than once, and some errors have been corrected. Marc Monnier 
says that a carved head was found with an inscription that was first 
thought to be isis proplieta, and so proved the worship of the Egyp- 
tian Isis, whereas the motto was Idem probamt. The two were about 
as unlike as the telegram that recently reached London from Ernst 
Renan. He was to lecture on "The Influence of Rome on the 
Formation of Christianity," but it was published "The Influence of 
Rum on the Digestion of Humanity!" 

The sun beat down with torrid heat as we went from temple to 
bath, and from shop to dwelling, but there was pure, sweet water at 
hand, of which I took copious draughts, and a breeze from the sea 
occasionally brought to us a delicious coolness. I rested awhile in the 
shade, as in the house of Lucretius, until my watchful medical 
friend would warn me of the danger of cooling too suddenly. The 
house of "the strange woman" was among the last visited, of which 
decency forbids a description. 

That night as I looked at midnight from the balcony of my hotel, 
at Naples, across the bay and saw the lurid glare of that devouring 
flame, trembling, palpitating in the darkness, I seemed to hear the 
old warning which men are so slow to heed, "Your sin will find 
you out!" These cities of the plain gave themselves over to unclean- 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



ness and strange flesh, and were "set forth for an example, suffering 
the vengeance of eternal fire." Religion, art and morals were thor- 
oughly corrupt. The practical lesson which the English-speaking 
race have to learn is this, that refinement of marmei-s, sesthetic cult- 
ure, and wealth of intellectual life, can never atone for moral impur- 
ity ; and that unless the progress of corruption be stayed, which Is 
now going on, fed by vile literature, lewd pictures, indecent theatric 
displays and other degrading amusements, the same indignation of 
God will burn against us. May all who have any influence in mould- 
ing the character of the nineteenth century never forget this one 
lesson of the first century. 

FLORENCE. 

This is the city of fair flowers, and the flower of fair cities. Its 
charms of scenery are conspicuous. Few places in Italy present a 
vision equal in beauty to that which is spread out before the eye of 
one standing on the terraces of San Miniate, or is seen from the 
Boboli Gardens, or from the heights of ancient Fiesole. 

" Girt by her theatre of hills she reaps 
Her corn and wine and oil, and Plenty leaps 
To laughing life, with her redundant horn. 
Along the banks where smiling Arno sleeps. 
Was modern luxury of Commerce bora. 
And buried Learning rose redeemed to a new mom. " 

The lofty Apennines look down on the rich, verdant plain through 
which the winding river flows to the sea, and picturesque hillsides 
crowned with villas, vineyards and mulberry groves form an ex- 
quisite framework for the city, which stands in solemn beauty be- 
low. The broad dome of its cathedral ; the graceful campanile of 
Giotto, "the mirror and model of perfect architecture," as Ruskin 
says; the " AVestminster Abbey" of Santa Croce; the lofty tower of 
the ancient palace, rising in stern and stolid strength over a square 
which is full of tragic memories; the churches and convents, the 
gardens and porticos along the slender Arno, and the bridges, new 
and old, form a picture of most enticing loveliness. 

But as a leader in Inoderu art and science and religious activity, 
Florence has still higher claims. The " Athens of Italy, " the home of 
Dante, Galileo, Da Vinci, Raphael, and Brunellesco, to-day, as of old, 
attracts scholars, sculptors, artists and poets. The scene of Savona- 
rola's toils and triumphs is the centre of evangelical reform, the seat 
of the Waldensian College, the Claudian Press, and many other im- 
portant auxiliaries of Christian knowledge. The population of the 
city is not far from 170,000. Its history is the history of Tuscany, 
of the Medici, of the Guelphs and Ghibellines, and of the barbarian 
invasions of earlj- centuries. Its sombre architecture recalls the 
days of civil strife, when social factions fought with pugnacious 
pride and bitter rivalry. Then was it necessary that a noble's palace 
should be a fortress. Their rugged massiveness speak of feudal de- 
fence rather than of modern luxury. Even the ornate churches wear 
an unfinished look, and lack unity of architectural plan. Florentius, 
a celebrated general, gave name to the town, according to Cellini, 
while others say that the abundance of lilies and other flowers sug- 
gested it. But one side of the river was at first occupied, and only 
one bridge crossed the Arno. There are now six bridges, nine gates, 
and twenty-three squares. The most interesting of these piazzas is 
that on which the Palazzo Vecchio fronts. This is the business 
centre and the spot where Savonarola and two other martyrs were 
burned in 1498. To this spot my steps turned immediately after 
I had left mj' satchel at Hotel L'Europe. "Romola" was fresh in 
memory, and the portrait of the reformer. "It was the fashion of 
old, when an ox was led for sacrifice to Jupiter, to chalk the dark 
spots, and give the offering a false show of unblemished whiteness. 
Let us fling away the chalk, and boldly say that the victim was 
spotted, but it was not, therefore, in vain that his mighty heart was 
laid on the altar of men's highest hopes." The sermons of the noble 
friar were full of fire and passion, yet solemn and pathetic. They 
held as by a spell the high-born and titled, as well as the rude and 
the humble. He knew that his end was near. The last words with 
which he closed his eight years' preaching in Florence were these : 
"When God has no longer need of an instrument he casts it away." 
He prayed for the Florentines that they might see no wisdom but in 
God's law, no beauty but God's holiness, and that he himself might 
be made like unto his Lord. ' ' Lay me on the altar ; let my blood 



flow, and the fire consume me, but let my witness be remembered 
among men, that iniquity shall not prosper forever." He knew thsit 
his life was but a vigil, and that only after death would come the 
dawn. He held up tlie sins of the Church and government with 
thrilling power, " dealing in no polite periphrases, but sending forth 
a voice that would be heard through all Christendom, and making 
the dead body of the Church tremble into new life, as the body of 
Lazarus trembled when the Divine voice pieroed the sepulchre." 
To degrade him in the eyes of the people he was put to the torture. 
Under it his delicate nervous system yielded, and he recanted. But 
these incoherent answers, wrung out of him in the delirium of pain, 
were recalled with returning breath. After a month he was again 
tortured, but nothing could be gained. His execution, however, wag 
fixed. On the morning of May 23 be and his associates, unfrocked 
and degraded, were marched to the stake. Salvestro wished to 
speak to the crowd, but Savonarola enjoined silence in memory of 
the Saviour, who on the cross spoke no words of self-vindication. 
When the papal commissioner excommunicated him from ' ' the Church 
militant and triumphant," he calmly said: "From the Church mili- 
tant, not from the Church triumphant; that is beyond your power." 
We are told that a strong wind that morning blew across the city, 
and for a while the flames were beaten back. The right hand of the 
sainted martyr, unconsumed, was seen moving in the fire, blessing 
the city that sought his blood. His remains were thrown into the 
Arno, but noble Florentine ladies secured relics that were long kept 
as sacred heirlooms. Year after year the place was strown with 
flowers on each recurring anniversary, and medals stamped with his 
face and name were circulated, bearing the inscription, "Doctor and 
martyr, apostle and prophet of God." Thirty years after, when the 
republic was free from the Medici, his sermons were publicly re- 
peated, and his hjrmns again were sung in the streets. So, too, after 
three hundred years' thrall, his name again became a power in the 
revival of Florentine liberty. An ancient picture of the martyr- 
dom, painted by Fra Bartolomeo, hangs in the cell where Savona- 
rola studied at the convent of San Marco, and I was glad to purchase 
a photographic copy of this original. Raphael painted him among 
the worthies in the very halls of the Vatican, and Pope Alexander 
VI. declared his writings to be free from all blame. Better than all, 
Martin Luther, who was fourteen years old when Savonarola was 
murdered, was raised up to carry on the work of reformation. This 
illustrious champion of the truth wielded a still wider sway over 
men, "till the nations paused to hear, and listening centuries clasped 
hands around his pulpit." Thus the blood of martyrs again proved 
to be the seed of the Church, Neptune's fountain on this spot now 
pours clear water from tritons and sea-horses. Michael Angelo used 
to sit near it in his old age and contemplate his colossal " David," 
now in the Academy. This is a much-admired and much-studied 
statue. Many of the criticisms of this great work since the sculptor's 
death are as fanciful as those at the time of its chiselling. One day, 
in apparent obedience to the suggestion of a fault-finder, Angelo 
climbed the ladder and pretended to make an alteration, dropping 
the while marble dust oi' chips, which he had stealthily carried up 
with him. He descended, without having made the slightest change, 
to receive the enthusiastic commendation of his pleased but ignorant 
townsman, whom he had so cleverly duped. The "god-like Perseus, 
with brow and sword, superbly calm," as Mrs. Browning describes 
it, stands in the open gallery under the shadow of the tower, 330 feet 
high, which rises from the palace. Dungeons within this prison 
and fortress were occupied by Savonarola and others of whom the 
world was not worthy. There was an opening through the high 
tower communicating with a well below, through which the doomed 
were dropped to darkness and to death. 

This square, which so often echoed to the shock of arms and the 
turbulent shouts of mobs, now is filled with the hum of busy and 
peaceful industry. The same ceaseless chatter runs on like a mill 
when the Arno is full, whether there be grist or not, so that you may 
put tow in your ears, as Piero the painter did, as a sign of contempt. 
Tessa the sweet milk-maid, or her duplicate, is still seen ; Bratti the 
trader and Tito the Greek; Bardo the toilful scholar, "a learned 
porcupine bristling all over with critical tests, to whom an error 
or indistinctness in the text is more painful than sudden darkness or 
obstacle across his path," and now and then some fair Romola, witb 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



fliite-likc voice, "dulcis, durabilis, olara, pura, secansaera et auribus 
sedens." The priest in blaoli gown, the beggar in rags, the sleeli 
waiter in white cravat at the cafe door, the fiower-girl, the fruit- 
seller, and the street-singer mingle in the cheerful, l)usy crowds that 
throng this and neighboring localities in the lieart of the city. 

A burial at night was one of the novelties of out-door life tliat at- 
tracted my attention. Members of a confraternity took charge of 
the funeral. Their hideous garb looked like that of a Ku-Klux 
gang. The lurid glare of torches in the darkness, and the monoto- 
nous chant that was sung, added to the repulsiveness of the cere- 
mony. Tlie rude crowds gathered along the ways to gaze with curi- 
osity as the noisy performers passed. The night before I was roused 
from sleep by the yelling of a similar band who were hastening to a 
church, I was told, to go through certain performances for some one 
who was sici!;. What a pity that thej^ had not hoard of the portable 
"Extract of prayer," advertised by the worshippers of the Sacred 
Heart at Nimes. This extract is enclosed in a scapular, which is sim- 
ply pressed to the breast, and thus the prayer is said. " It costs but 
one franc, and is suitable for persons who liave not much time to 
pray." This mummery is as sensible as that of the Parisian who 
limited his praying to New Year's day, when he recited a prayer 
three hours long, and then on each morning tlirough the year sim- 
ply said "Ditto." There is mucli of supei'stitiou and priestcraft 
yet remaining here, but Italy is sure!}' advancing. Seven Protes- 
tant denominations, with flfty-three schools, are planted in Rome 
alone, and their motto is, "Here we are, and here we shall stay!" 
The States of the Churclr liavo passed from the map of the world for 
the first time for a hundred years, and when, on the morning of Sep- 
tember 20, 1870, the cannon of Emanuel rolled up to the Quirinal 
Palace, heavier ordnance moved along with it, the artillery of an- 
other Immanuel, even a load of Bibles, Italy's hope of redemption ! 
That humble dog-cart, loaded by colporteurs with the word of God, 
moving through Portia Pia between 50,000 bristling bayonets of Sar- 
dinian troops, had a more thrilling significance than all the pomp and 
circumstance of war. So, too, a little later, there occurred another 
incident, unknown to the world, but which marked an epoch in the 
world's advancement. It was midnight. A Waldensian printer was 
in his ofiice. He had determined to print the Italian Scriptures in 
Rome, not in some obscure corner either, but under the very eye of 
him whose bubble of infallibility had so suddenly burst. The forms 
were ready for the press at twelve o'clock. A friend of mine — an 
American clergyman from whom I have the incident — knew what 
was to be done that night, and could not sleep for excitement. He 
called a carriage, and with a daughter, also a pioneer missionary, 
rode to the office just at the moment. Each in turn grasped the 
wheel, and, with emotions of gr.atitude to God which they could not de- 
scribe, helped to print the first sheets of the first Bible, the unbound 
word of God, which is, as Chevalier Bunseu says, "the only basis of 
civil and religious liberty, the only real cement of nations." "The 
whole hope of human progress," adds the lamented Secretary Sew- 
ard, "is suspended on the ever-growing influence of the Bible." The 
Saints of Italy salute us. Pope and Pagan need no longer ternf j'. 
One has been dead many a day, and the other has gi'own stiff in his 
joints and can do little more than to now "sit in his cave's mouth 
grinning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails because he 
cannot come at them." The imprisonment and sufferings of Rosa 
and Francejjco Madiai for Bible-reading, and hundreds of others in 
Florence in 1853, aroused the indignation of the world. The En- 
glish and American Governments expressed their feelings to the 
Grand Duke of Tuscany, but to the French Government did the 
captives finally owe their liberation, thanks to the " Yorkshire good 
sense of Mr. Ward, the most confidential agent of his government, 
who suggested that the concession should be made to France," to 
save the loss of dignit}- involved in yielding merely to Lord Russell's 
menaces and other serious threats. * The reluctance with which the 
Duke yielded, and the wa}' in which he thrust them out of his do- 
main, reflected no honor on him. To avoid publicity they were 
taken away with the prison garb on, hurried on board a Leghorn 
steamer, shipped to Marseilles under a false name, and no notice 



* Letter of Brittish Chaplain, "Evangelical Christendom, "vol. vii. 
1>. 153. 



was given the British minister at Florence. The telegraph, however, 
told the world of it in a few hours, and the enemies of religious 
freedom learned a lesson that has never been forgotten. Joseph, the 
Austrian Emperor, remembered it the other day and dared not turn 
a deaf ear to the respectful but emphatic protest of the Basle Alli- 
ance. He saw that the papal power could not in Bohemian fast- 
nesses hound to death the children of John Huss without insulting 
the civilization of the age. 

To-day the Waldensians, "the front line of heroes, with the scars 
of thirty persecutions on them," number in Italy 88 churches and 
mission stations, 15,000 communicants, 4400 in Sunday Schools, 
Add a half a dozen other denominations, and we have a large and ef- 
fective force. Besides these there are other agencies like the Gould 
Memorial School, sustained by American and British Christians, 
which are beacon lights of truth and liberty. In conucction with 
these events one will visit the large hall in Florence with interest 
where Victor Emanuel opened his first Parliament. The former 
home of llrs. E. B. Browning at Casa Guidi and the graves of Trol- 
lope, Landor and Theodore Parker are not without intei-cst. The Caa- 
cine, or public park, by the shore of the Arno is a kind of social ex- 
change, where foreigners meet and flower-girls gather with their 
fragrant merchandise. You see the carriages of English lord.s, Rus- 
sian nobles, and French princes jostling each other. Others are on 
horseback, titled or unknown. Then there are multitudes, just as 
good, who prefer to saunter along on foot to enjoy the pleasant 
shade, the sunset hues of the river, and the distant openings. Still 
more beautiful on a sultry day is the quiet retreat of the Boboli Gar- 
dens, with its gay parterres of flowers, its undulating avenues of box 
and pine, its waterfalls, lakes, and grottos, with many quaint and 
colossal statues, single and in groups, carved by Angelo and others. 
This spot is said to be the favorite resort of Eugli.sh children whose 
nurses have made it a sort of "infant exchange, from the baby of 
two summers to the little damsel of ten or twelve, already beginning 
to draw herself up and look dignified. Their animated movements 
and happ}^ voices give life and music to a scene wortliy of a pencil 
of Correggio. The whole fashion of the place speaks of the luxury 
of shade, and of defences against an intrusive sun; high verdurous 
walls to refresh the eye, dazzled wnth the fervors of summer's uoon; 
sun-proof roofs of foliage, woven when the freshness and coolness of 
the morning long lingers and slowly retires. In these very gardens 
Milton may have had suggested to him his image of the Indian 
herdsman 

" 'That tends his pasturing herds 
At loop-holes cut through thickest shade. ' " 

No wonder that the Florentine calls his home Firenze la, hdla. 

Of indoor sights in Florence no detailed description can be given. 
On Sunday I visited Santa Croce, within whose precincts lie the re- 
mains of Angelo, Alfleri, Galileo, Machiavelli and other illustrioua 
dead. I saw a service in which a little boy received the sacrament alone, 
other smaller children with their mothers kneeling on the altar steps 
behind him. An aged female beggar received my last coin, for her 
sad face and friendless aspect moved my sympathies as common 
mendicants rarely do. I also pa.5sed the church of San Lorenzo, 
said to have been reared in 393 by a pious mother as a thank offering 
for a son born to her, whom she named Lorenzo. Standing at the 
bronze tablet which marks the spot where Dante used to sit to gaze 
upon Brunelleschi's dome and Giotto's tower, I gazed, at the twi- 
light hour, upon what Longfellow has well called 

" A vision, a delight, and a desire. 
The builder's iierfect and perennial flower." 

This campanile is 275 feet high and combines characteristica of 
power and beauty, according to Ruskin, as no other edifice in tlie 
world; a "bright, smooth, sunny surface of glowing jasper; spiral 
shafts and fair traceries, so white, so faint, so crystalline, that their 
slight shapes are hardly traced in darkness on the pallor of the east- 
ern sky ; a serene height of mountain alabaster, colored like a morn- 
ing cloud, and chased like a sea-shell. Is there not something to be 
learned by looking back to the eariy life of him who raised it ? Not 
within the walls of Florence, but among the far-away fields of her 
lilies was the child tramed who was to raise that headstone of Beautjr 
above her towers of watch and war. The legend upon his crown was 



44 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



that of David's, ' I took thee from the sheepcote and from following 
the sheep. ' " Close by is the Baptistery with its three bronze doors, on 
two of which Ghiberti expended forty years of toil. Michael Angelo 
said that they were worthy to be the gates of Paradise. They repre- 
sent scripture scenes and swing on porphyiy columns which were a 
gift from Pisa in 1300. The Cathedral, opposite, abounds in historic 
associations. As you wander through its dusky aisles and read the 
blurred inscriptions; or look up into its double dome, the first reared 
in Europe, the specific gravity of every brick of which the architect, it 
is believed, ascertained before he laid it; or stand at the altar where one 
of the Medici fell befoie the murderous blow of Pazzi, who sought to 
give liberty to Florence; or look on the banners borne to the Holy 
Laud m the time of the Crusades; or think of the burning words of 
Savonarola that were once heard here by spell-bound congregations, 
you seem to be disengaged from the affairs of this present time, and 
living among the actors and the scenes of long passed centuries 
Passing the old Bargello, once the residence of the Podesta, or chief 
magistrate of Florence, then a prison with trap doors and instruments 
of torture, you recall the stories of ancient cruelty perpetrated there, 
such as walling into the masonry living captives. Headley tells of a 
skeleton examined by him and by an English physician. It stood in 
the wall of a church an hour's ride out of the city. It had been there 
centuries, and was accidentally discovered while making alterations, 
yet suffered to remain undisturbed, an object of dread, and, doubt- 
less, a source of gain. The surgeon, though familiar with skeletons 
was greatly affected by his scrutiny of the ghastly relic. The ragged 
masonry had been built from the feet upward while the man was alive. 
The bones of the toes are curled and contracted in the last agony of 
suffocation, The arms also indicate a painful effort as if for free- 
dom, and the shoulders are elevated as when one gasps for breath. 
No coffin or grave clothes were there, for it was a clear case of mur- 
der. The man must have been six feet high and had a powerful 
frame. He died hard. Wiat a picture imagination paints of such 
a scene, the struggle before he was bound and placed in the jagged 
iiiche : the hurried dash of mortar and ring of trowel on the settling 
stone; the slow rising of the wall over the stiffening knees aaid beat- 
ing breast and praying lips till only the white forehead remained; 
the last fragment fitted and the murderous deed complete ! And all 
this in a christian Church dedicated to the beloved disciple ! In 1865 
the Bargello was remodelled for a National Museum. The court- 
yard where once the scaffold, the wheel, the axe and halter were 
seen is now adorned with the arms of the Podestas. In this and 
other museums, libraries, galleries, of pictures, the stranger may 
well linger for days and even weeks. Here are statues ' ' that en- 
chant the world," and paintings that are the perfection of art. You 
see also the telescopes and other intruments used by Galileo in his 
nightly study of the starry heavens, and his very finger in a bottle, 
the relic having been stolen from his tomb; you hold the crutch and 
slippers of Michael Angelo and recall his last words on that wintiy 
morning, when in 1563 he entered the heavenly world, almost 90 
yeai-s old, " In your passage through this life, never, never forget the 
sufferings of Jesus Christ;" you look on memorials of the appalling 
scenes of the plague described in the Decamerone of Boccacio, till 
you fairly smell the chamel house, the corpse and worm, and rush 
out into the bright sunshine and busy streets, asking with Longfel- 
low, '• Can this gay city have ever been the city of the plague, and 
this pure air laden with the pestilence ?" 

A delightful visit may be made to the monastery about which Mil- 
ton loved to wander, an ancient pile embowered in sombre groves of 
pine and oak, of chestnut and of beech, filled with ambrosial sweets, 
hence its name Val Arabrosa. The reference to it in " Paradise Lost" 
has made it immortal. 

' ' Which as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks 
In Vallombrosa, whose Etrurian shades 
High-arched, embower." 

There, too, the author of the " Divina Comedia" delighted to rest, 
where 

" Mountains live in holy families, 
And the slow pine woods ever climb and climb 
Half up their breasts; just stagger as they seize 
Some grey cliff, drop back into it many a time. 
And struggle blindly down the precipice." 



Beckford confirms the accuracy of Milton's simile, for he 8ays: 
' ' Showers of leaves blew full in our faces as we approached the 
convent," an incident, indeed, true of every forest the world over. 
But though there are many forests, there are few Miltons. The 
briefest reference by a gi'eat author is oftentimes quite sufficient to 
lift into conspicuous importance what would be otherwise common 
place. 

VENICE. 

Here we are in old, romantic Venice, the Queen of the Adriatic' 
History, literature, art, and song have thrown a charm about this 
jewelled bride of the sea that makes her attractive even in her decay. 
That strange spell with which Venice holds the traveller is found in 
no other city on the globe. Once " the Autocrat of Commerce, the 
Mother of Republics, the oldest Child of Liberty," now she is a 
silent and foi-saken town, more than one quarter of whose popula- 
tion receives relief as paupers. Prof. J. S. Blackie -nrites: 

"City of palaces, Venice, once enthroned 
Secure, a ciueen mid fence of flashing waters. 
Whom East and West with rival homage owned 
A wealthy mother with fair trooping daughters. 
What art thou now ? Thy walls are grey and old; 
In thy lone hall the spider weaves his woof. 
A leprous crust creeps o'er thy house of gold. 
And the cold rain drips through the pictured roof. 
The frequent ringing of thy eliurchly bells 
Proclaims a faith but half-believed by few; 
Thy palaces are trimmed into hotels, 
And travelling strangers, a vague-wondering crew, 
Noting thy stones, with guide-book in their hand, 
Leave half the wealth that lingers in the land." 

I alighted at evening from the railway carriage at the end of the 
long lagoon bridge, and stepped into a gondola. The simple men- 
tion of the word "Victoria" was suflicient. The boat glided off 
noiselessly, with a steady, rhythmic throb that neither jarred nor 
tipped, but impelled it with a swift, measured movement wholly 
unique. The single impression that for the moment swallowed up 
all other thouglits was the solemn silence that brooded over every- 
thing. The stillness of Pompeii is one thing, but that of Venice is 
quite another. The absence of horses, of vehicles, of the sounds of 
busy streets and active industry; and the dark, slimy water, which, 
as Charles Dickens somewhere says, stuffs its weeds and refuse into 
the chinks as if the marble walls, the stones, and bars had mouths to 
stop, conspired to awe, if not to depress. At Pompeii there was the 
quiet of a church-yard — simply that of a lonely, deserted place; but 
here were the living, men who seemed to move stealthily with slip- 
pered feet. The hush and mystery of life and motion appeared to 
me to be in keeping with the remembered history of the place, full 
of secrecy and dark suspicion. I thought of the spies that four 
hundred years ago used to haunt every place, moving almost ass 
invisible and omnipresent as the air, obedient to 

" A power that never slumbered, never pardoned; 
All eye, all ear, nowhere and everywhere; 
Entering the closet and the sanctuaiy. 
Most present when least thought of — nothing dropped 
In secret, when the heart was on the lips, 
Nothing in feverish sleep, but instantly 
Observed and judged. . . . Let one indulge 
A word, a thought against the laws of Venice, 
And in that hour he vanished from the ear'thl" 

An evening rarnble through the busiest centres of the town did 
not wholly correct the first impressions, which were decidedly som- 
bre. The cloudy sky and my weariness after a day's ride over the 
Apennines — 182 miles from Florence — had something to do v.-ith 
these feelings. A refreshing sleep and a bright morning sunlight 
put a different look on things. 

Dr. Loomis, in his "Central Europe," makes the present popula- 
tion 130,000, dwelhng on 117 islands connected by 378 bridges. A 
consular government was founded in 421; the ducal. 697; the inde- 
pendence of Venice ceased in 1797; Austria held rule till 1866, when 
the city united with Italy. But within these bald outlines what a 
history is included, full of startling vicissitudes, of glory, and of 
shame! It is a marvel and a contradiction. Commerce was wedded 
to nobility, liberty to despotism, refinement to barbaric cruelty. 
Prom the days of Gothic invasion down to the battles of Marcng* 
and Solferino, this seagirt city has floated "like an ark amid a 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



4S 



thousand wrecks," enriched with spoils from many lands. For cen- 
turies a haughty ruler of the waters, now she is only rich in the 
memories of the past. 

GONDOLA EXCURSION. 

A gondola excursion, of course, was first in order that beautiful 
morning, before the heat of the day became oppressive. The^ 
black barges are a study. Once they were gay and 
luxurious in appearance; but the republic rebuked the 
pretentious display of the nobles, and clothed them all 
in sable like so many hearses. They are nearly thirty 
feet long, lined with cloth or velvet, and furnished 
with pillows or morocco cushions, "stolen from Mam- 
mon's chambers — blown up, not stuSed. You seat 
yourself on one of them, and sink, sink, sink, as if it 
were air; you throw your leg upon another, and, if 
you have occasion for it, which is rare in Venice, you 
must hunt after it — lost, sunk." * There is a movable 
cabin with windows, curtains, and mirrors. This is in 
the middle, and may easily be replaced by an awning. 
The prow rises high, like a swan's neck, to match the 

height of the cabin; heavy, to balance the weight of ^' :_--" 

the rower; and is of sharp, shining steel, with threaten- f -- 7^1— =i 
ing teeth and edge. Thegondolier stands in the stern. ' ' '' ^f: 
skilfully sculling and steering by side row-locks. He \ 
often utters a sharp word of warning as he hails a boat 
or turns an angle. Scarfs, ribbons, plumes, and gay 

caps were once worn, but now are rarely seen. The 

boatmen I happened to meet were prosaic. Their " ^^^ 

dress was scant and poor, their figures unimposing. 
No songs of Tasso and Ariosto were warbled by their 
lips along the echoing canals. Money was in their thought rather 
than poetiy or song, art or romance. Occasionally their silence 
was broken by a word or hj'brid phrase, half English and half 
Italian, to indicate a localit}-. Perhaps you make out, "House 
of Desdemona, who married the 3Ioor," and catch a glimpse of 
the high arched windows, lacework carvings, lofty escutcheon, 
or blossoming oleander, beneath the trellis where once the fair 
daughter of Brabantio stood; or you maj' catch the word "Shy- 
lock," and see the window where Jessica escaped — ducats and 
daughter going in one fateful hour; or you may be pointed out the 
house where Byron spent days of dissipation, and think of the 
exquisite fourth canto of " C'hilde Harold." 

Be not troubled if j'ou notice, arising from the gi'een slime along 
the watery street, something more pungent than the rose and mag- 
nolia, heliotrope and jasmine in the windows; for, with all the 
glamour of poetry about the city, there are some things that are 
thoroughly unromantic. When compelled to yield to the request of 
his guest for an inside room, which did not take up the odors of the 
water, a good-natured German landlord replied, " Ja, ja, mein herr; 
it is a goot canal enof ; 'tis only ven de tide is out s/ie sc/imeiln .'"' 

THE RIALTO AND THE PALACES. 

I left mj- gondola at the Rialto long enough to cross and recross 
this bridge, a single marble arch, 91 feet span, resting on 12,000 piles. 
There are a score of shops, with fruit, jewelry, and fancy wares, 
which were ranged along the covered ways. Shylock's Rialto, how- 
ever, was not the bridge, but a neighboring square. Here it was 
that Antonio's losses were talked over by the merchants, and there 
the Jew was rated and spit upon. Rialto, rivo alto, deep stream, 
was the first island inhabited, and was long the port of Padua. 

Though mould}' and yellow, the architecture of Venice is varied 
and rich. There is a language in the lines, angles, arches, spaces, 
and perspective of these Venetian stones, built up, as Ruskin says, 
into "graceful arcades and gleaming walls, veined with azure, warm 
with gold, and fretted with white sculpture, like frost upon forest, 
branches turned to marble. " The energy of the Lombard architec- 
ture is here wedded to the spiritualitj- of the Arabic and the beauty 
of the Romanesque. But, as in Pompeii, there is here more than 
the critical details of art to occupy our thought. We remember that 
only a few inches of marble covered violence, corruption, and 
cruelty. "Through century after century of gathering vanity and 

* Condor's "Italv." Sfi.t'f'hty Maga^nf. London. Vol. VIII. 



festering guilt the white dome of St. Mark's had uttered, in the dead 
ear of Venice, ' Know thou, that for all these things God will bring 
thee into judgment.' " 

Casa d'Oro stands supreme among the palaces, built about the 
year 13-50 with most fanciful ornateness, and covered with gold, a^ 
some believe. Others say that the Doro family gave their name to 




ST. mark's AXD the CAMPAXILi;. 

it. The pali or 'posts that once marked a nobleman's residence still 
bear heraldic colors. The gondolier also pointed me to the Foscari 
Palace, the Balbi and Pis;ini; but I saw no cloth of gold hung from 
the windows, nor Venetian ladies, decked with barbaric gems, gaz- 
ing out, as when the republic welcomed home their victorious galleys 
laden with Eastern spoils. I did not land again, for the sun was 
climbing high, and its garish rays showed too clearly the rust and 
^vrinkles on the faded beauty of other days. The heat. too. was 
noticeible and \ noon nap seemed to be m oider This \n as enjoyed 
in cool quiet quarters These maible pilaces -s\hich the best Italian 
hotels no^\ I \\\\ 111 ^ be uncomfoit ible enoujth in ^Muttr but in 







THE 3RII>GE OF SIGHi. 

midsummer I found them very agreeable. Over tfee smooth s hinin g 
mosaic which formed the floor mats were laid here and there, and 



46 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



a lace netting formed a part of the canopy over the couch. The 
height of the room nearly equalled its other dimensions, so that 
in this spacious stony cube I had ample ventilation with the swinging 
■window-frames thrown open. Meals could be had at any hour, and 
of almost any kind, provided your patience and your purse held 
out. After his visit at Venice, Charles Dickens wrote to Lady 
Blessington, with charming humor, that his purse had always been 
open and all Italy yearned to have its hand in it ; that he meant to 
hang it up as a trophy, with its memorial marks — one recalling a 
single payment of 500 francs for horses; another witnessing to a 
hotel charge thrice the correct amount, which was paid ; 
a third telling of greedy custom house officials, and so on ; 
and that he meant finallj' to bequeath it to his son, saying. 
"Take it, hoy, thy father has nothing else to give!" 
The Swiss Econmaist says that the ri.se in hotel charges is principally 
due to the extravagance of American visitors, whose average ex- 
penditures are two or three thousand dollars eacli. This estimate is 
high, but there are, doubtless, multitudes of idlers who delight in 
pretentious display, and return home, after six months' travel, with 
their brains as empty as Dickens' purse. I met a party of three or 
four Marylanders, who gave me the unsolicited information that they 
had " done" Europe to the tune of $50,000. They seemed to be 
posted as to the matter of wines, but deplorably ignorant of common 
things. 

OUTDOOK RAMBLES. 

Street life varies at every stage of your journey, for there are 
many modifying circumstances, even where the climate, as in Italy, 
remains about tlie same. The character of the people, their intelli- 
gence, thrift and industry; the traditional usages of society; the 
municipal regulations; the topographical features of a city; its style 
of arckitecture and its surrounding.? — all these change the picture 
which its streets present. The isolation of Venice and the absence 
of streets and open gardens at once strike your attention. You find 
the houses of irregular shape and size, huddled together with alleys 
between so narrow you can almost reach across. One lower door 
may answer for several fiimilies, and the windows on the ground floor 
ai-e barred with iron. Venetian blinds are not found in Venice, bat 
solid shutters are used. Iron balconies jut out on naiTow brackets, 
as do eliimney iiues. The plaster stoves are said to be good eaters 
and poor heaters. A sceUdiiio is often carried from place to place 
filled with burning charcoal, during the four cold months. 

The dress of the people exhibits the usual variety incident lo posi- 
tion and employment. Here is a learned monk with shorn pate, and 
there a gay lounger, ■"affluent of hair but indigent of brain." The 
one has his mass-book and beads; the other, in velvet doublet and 
long hose, tos.ses aside with jewelled hand his red cape. The clatter 
of small wooden soles attracts your attention, perhaps, to the peasant 
girl of Lido, whose robust figure and sunburnt brow are in mai-ked 
contrast to the appearance of her city sister of fairer complexion 
and more delicate make-up. Both are fond of bright colors. The 
black bodice, yellow skirt, blue apron and red kerchief show this. 
On liolidays green or violet silk with white veils may be substituted. 
Those ba-skets of lavender and rose look moist and fragrant. The 
purple figs, the plump fowls, the dark gi-een melons nestling perhaps 
in laurel leaves, form an appetizing vision as you stroll by the shops. 
The song that comes from the wine rooms directs your eye to the red 
casks and dull bottles of an old vintage. Keep clear of them and 
come with me to the centre of Venetian life and gayet)', the grand 
square of St. Mark. It is ni,ght. The air is balmy and the sky is 
bright with stars. The band is beginning to play. Take a chair and 
a table and sip a glass of granita — a frozen mixture sweet with fruit 
syrup, "first cou.sin to ice-cream." With cake it is served for half a 
fi'anc. These we eat under the portico where once only nobles were 
allowed to walk. Before us is the Ducal Palace, the Bell tower and 
the Cathedral of St. Mark. 

How about this saint, the tutelary divinity of Venice? It is an 
oft-told legend of what happened a thousand years ago. Two 
Venetian merchants were at Alexandria. They smuggled away 
the corpse of the Evangelist by covering it with pieces of pork, 
and then shouting in the cars of the Mussulmen tlie name of that 
most offensive flesh. During the homeward voyage the dead saint 
had to take command of the ship in a storm to save it from dcsl ruc- 



tion. When he, or it, arrived, a grand reception was tendered. 
After awhile the Venetians lost track of St. Mark, but subsequently 
found him through the strong ordor which he emitted, as Johnson 
once tracked Boswell. At another time St. Mark kindly thrust his 
hand through a marble column, dropped a ring which disclosed a 
coffin, and which led to other grave disclosures. He had also a tame 
lion, with wings, which like Mary's lamb went wherever Mark w^ould 
go. Some sceptics prefer the theory that Daniel's vision suggested 
the lion's pinions. Opinions vary, but for ages the question used to 
be put to each returning vessel as it entered the port, "What do you 
bring for St. Mark?" When a captive was to be ransomed, the ques- 
tion was, " What will you give to St. Mark?" 

Those four horses that stand by the door have been great travellers. 
They have visited Rome and Paris and Constantinople. Thej' wit- 
nessed the Cmsades and have participated in many stin-ing events of 
modern times. They were raised in Greece. Their age is uncertain, 
as is the case with all horses, but the weight of each is 1983 pounds. 
This has not changed during all their active life, and they look now 
as lively and rampant as ever. These are the only hor.ses in town. 
Many Venetians, it is said, never saw but these four. 

You notice at the N. W. angle of this broad square the Clock- 
Tower. There is a mechanism only second in interest to Strasbiirg 
clock. Every five minutes large, distinct figures, Arabic and Roman, 
moving below the dial tell you the hour — VIII. 45, VIII. 50. At cer- 
tain hours when all good Papists are supposed to be on their knees, 
three kings, led by a star, march out one door and bow to the Virgin, 
returning by another. For a proper fee you are allowed to see the 
show; only be careful — if on the tower wjien the quarter hour blow 
is struck — that the huge hammer in the hand of the bronze Vulcan 
does not knock you over the battlements, as was the case some years 
ago when Evelyn was in Venice, As your eye turns to the Campa- 
nile you think of Galileo, who once stood on that lofty tower 330 feet 
high and studied these same constallations that nov>' shine in the .sky. 
As soon as he had invented the telescope he came hither and for 
more than a month was busy in showing it to the nobles and other 
patrons of science. Receiving an intimation that it would be a good 
tiling for him to present the telescope to the Senate, he took the hint 
and did so. He got a professorship in the University of Padua as a 
reward, the salary of which was repeatedly increased, and finally 
doubled and made a permanent income for life. 

Yonder beautiful building recalls the liberality of another scholar, 
Petrarch, who, in 1362, gave his librar}' to the city in return for at- 
tentions received while a resident here, a fugitive from the plague 
in Padua. This collection includes rare MSS. of Homer and Sopho- 
cles rich in grotesque Byzantine illustrations. These musty parch- 
ments delight scholars, but Venice knows little of tliem to-day, and 
cares less. See those tired toilers. They have slept out the concert, 
lying on the steps of St. Mark's. They are doing well. Tiie marble 
is warm and the mercury still .stands at 78". The musicians arc mov- 
ing towards the water-side to the notes of a lively march. Let us 
follow. How weird the scene as we stand here between the linn and 
the crocodile, where so many e-'cecutions have taken place, and look 
out over the bay. Dull lanterns burn on the gondolas like funeral 
torches, here and there flitting in the darkness. The groves of the 
Lido, where the nightingales are now singing, are hidden, and the 
curving shore is lighted with countless lamps throwing their red 
glare on the water. In her palmiest days 30,000 of the people of 
Venice slept in boats every night. But all is changed. Her glory 
and wealth are gone. The serenade has ceased, the evening bells 
ring out an elegy. Sismondi and others predict that while the name 
of Venice will remain a splendid shadow, its borders will come to be 
but a pestilential marsh, its palaces roofless, its population a few 
fishermen, the ruin a second Babylon, where the porpoise is substi- 
tuted for the fox and the g-ull for the bittern. Emilio Castelar has 
observed with truth that life is nourished upon death, and that Ven- 
ice fell at the cradle of America as Iphigenia at the cradle of Greece. 
She was the England of raedifeval times; her liberties the most an- 
cient of Christendom; her architecture an epitome of all epochs, a 
wonder of wonders in richness and variety; and her power in art 
was that of a magician who compels others to he imitators by the kiss 
of fire which she lays on their foreheads. But now, he sa3's, she is 
dying. The Phrygian cap of the republic and the Byzantine crown 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



47 



of the East have fallen forever from her Head; her voluptuous ban- 
quets are ended; her sea-flowers and coral garlands have lost their 
aroma, and a sepulchral silence broods over stagnant pools whose 
green slime swims like bodies of the dead. Desolation rests on the 
sombre palaces, rich in twisted columns, plinths and pedestals, in 
Gothic rose and Arabic window; and as their heavy doors turn 
Hlowljf on their hinges and their occupants softly descend the yellow 
steps into a gondola, they look like those who go slowly down to 
rest in the last, long sleep. 

The band has disappeared. We stroll along the mole; stand on 
tlie bridge Paglia and see the modern prison where 300 prisoners are 
incarcerated; glance at the "Bridge of Sighs," over which so many 
heavy feet and heavier hearts have passed, to find, as Rogers says, 

■' That fatal closet at the foot, lurking for prey ! 
That deep descent leading to dripping vaults 
Under the flood, where light and warmth were never I" 

John Howard tells of the loathsome cells he visited here, to which 
many were condemned for life. Tlie prisoners told him that they 
all would prefer the slavery of the galleys if they could once again 
enjoy the light and air. 

STORIES OF THE TEJSI TYRAMTS. 

Long ago I had learned from the researches of Daru in the Royal 
Library at Paris enough to gain some idea of the merciless rigor of 
the Inquisition of tlie State. This knowledge awed me as I viewed 
the spot about which tliese tragic associations cling. Their recital 
ought, at least, to intensify the loyalty of English-speaking people to 
the free institutions which it has been their boast to sustain and ex- 
tend. 

The Council of Ten gave in 1454 plenary power to the Inquisitors 
of State over all who should expose themselves to punishment. This 
J., is said to be the only code ever written ' ' on the avowed basis of per- 

fidy and assixssination, and exceeds every other product of human 
t' \ wickedness." The treasury of the Ten was at their service, and no 
?i account demanded; the terrific dungeons below, or the hollow niches 

within the walls of the palace, were at their disposal ; the cord, tkc 
sack, the dagger or the poison waited their call ; and not only Vene- 
tians but foreign ambassadors must obey their mandates without 
questioning. Sometimes a hint was given to the stranger, if a man 
of mark, in these words, " The air of Venice is unhealthy," and he 
fled for life. A Genoese painter talked one day with two Frenchmen 
who were indiscreet in their criticisms of the government. Spies heard 
and reported the conversation. The next day the painter was sum- 
moned. He v/as asked by the Inquisitors if he could recognize the 
persons who talked with him the day before in a certain church. He 
assured the officers that his own words had been only praise. A curtain 
was removed and he saw the bodies of the two foreigners hanging 
from the ceiling. He was dismissed with the advice to keep quiet and 
express no opinions either way. A German merchant was hurried 
out of his hotel one night, muffled in a cloak, carried to an under- 
ground apartment. The next day ho was confined in a room hung 
with black, lighted with one taper burning before a crucifix. On a 
third day, an invisible Inquisitor inquired his name, age and busi- 
ness; if he had heard an abbe use certain expressions, and if he could 
recognize his face if shown. A screen was then removed and a gib- 
bet was shown with the priest upon it. A French nobleman was 
robbed in Venice and complained of the negligence of the police. As 
he was leaving, his gondola was intercepted by another, bearing the 
ominous red flag, and manned by minions of a ruthless and mysteri- 
ous power. "Pass into this boat!" Then followed short, rapid 
queries as to the theft and his suspicions. " Would you know him 
■.,again ?" " Undoubtedly." The oHScer coolly lifted with his foot a 
f covering, and there lay the corpse with the green purse in its pulse- 
'less grasp, containing the five hundred ducats undisturbed. The 
nobleman was ordered to take his gold, leave, and never set foot 
again in a land the wisdom of whose government he had dared to 
impeach. 

In the life of Howard it is related that a nobleman was roused at 
dead of night and carried off in a gondola to a lonely spot, to sec tlie 
strangled body of an intimate friend, the tutor of his children. The 
young man had unwisely repeated remarks ou certain political mat- 



ters which he had heard from tlie lips of his patron. The cord was 
the cruel cure for careless speech. Enough of this. The day of 
reckoning came. Ezekiel's prophecy against Tyre told the doom of 
this Queen of cities. ' ' Because thou hast said I sit in the midst of 
the seas, thine heart is lifted up because of thy riches. Every jire- 
cious stone was thy covering; thou has gotten gold and silver into 
thy treasuries ; by thy great wisdom and by thy traffic thou has in- 
creased thy riches. I will bring strangers; they shall defile thy 
brightness." One morning in May, 1797, twenty gun-boats and 
80,000 men appeared. Bonaparte told the Venetian ambassadors, 
"There shall be no more Inquisition, no more Senate, and I will 
prove another Attila to Venice." The arsenal was stripped; the 
golden book burned, and a new inscription was put ou the volume in 
the lion's hand, ' ' The rights of man and of civilization !" The last doge 
while stooping to the humiliation of an oath of allegiance to his new 
master was stricken in a fit and died soon after. Though hand had 
joined in hand, the wicked went not unpunished. 

THE PALACE OF THE DOGES. 

Where is there a stranger juxtaposition of glory and of shame, of 
beauty and of horror ? Above are 

"Rooms of state 
Where Kings have feasted, and the festal song 
Rung through the fretted roof, cedar and gold " — 

below are the damp sepulchral dungeons where tortured prisoners 
lay in agony and darkness, where I saw the channel chiselled in the 
stony pavement to conduct away the blood when men were butch- 
ered. Above are pictures of saints and angels, of the Redeemer of 
men and apostles of peace; below are the footprints and handiwork 
of fiends ! Charles Dickens describes his descent into these ' ' dismal, 
awful, horrible stone cells. They were quite dark. One cell I saw 
in which no man remained for more than four and twenty hours, 
being marked for death before he entered it. Hard by, another, 
whereto a monk, brown-robed and hooded, came — ghastly in the 
day and free bright air, but in the midnight of that murky iiri.son, 
Hope's extinguisher. Murder's herald. I had my foot upon the spot 
where the shriven prisoner was strangled, and struck my hand upon 
the guilty door through which the lumpish sack was carried out into 
a boat, and rowed away and drowned where it was death to cast a 
net." My guide pointed out the sad inscriptions which the .sufferers 
had scratched on the walls; also the dungeon in which, to gratify 
what he thought was a poetic caprice, Byron spent twenty-four 
hours, locked up in the dark to see how good it was! 

The tablet in the frieze of the Council Hall, which should have 
been filled by Faliero's face, bears on its black front the record of his 
treason. The spot on which he, in his eightieth year, was decap- 
itated; the museum, paintings and other works of art, including 
Tintoreto's " Paradise," the largest oil painting in the world, tliould 
be noticed. The Arsenal, with the instruments of old-time torture; 
poisoned needles shot from a spring pistol; ancient cross-bows, 
swords and bucklers, with silken banners and oriflammes that flutter- 
ed in the hot breath of battle in the days of the Crusades, as at 
Jaffa, when, according to the Archbishop of Tyre, the Venetians 
fought ankle-deep in blood, when the sea was reddened two miles 
around, and piles of the dead lay unburied for days along the coast. 
Hillard considers this the most impressive place in Venice, an epit- 
ome of six centuries of Venetian life. Although robbed by French 
and Austrian, there is enough left to make vivid the memories of the 
republic, when the palaces of white Istriau marble, decked with por- 
])hyry, were brilliant with purple hangings and richest tapestry ; when 
Titian's superb paintings adorned the walls; gold, silver, spices and 
silks from the East were brought home as spoils of war, and Venice 
came finally to be a modern Capua, and naked Venus kept her court 
where " Cupids ride the Lion of the deeps." 

THE MARRIAGE OF THE ADRIATIC. 

This festival was celebrated for 180 years, to commemorate vie 
tories over sea pirates in 997, but in 1170 Ascension Day was made 
commemorative of the grander triumph won over Frederick Barba- 
rossa. Then Pope Alexander gave the Duke a ring of gold as a 
token of dominion of the sea, to be thereafter subservient to Venice 
as a spouse to her husband. Galibert's " Histoire de Venise" has a 



48 



OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 



minute account of this brilliant outdoor festival, which was followed 
by a fair that lasted a fortnight. At this its mechanical and decora- 
tive arts were exhibited in temporary pavilions on the Piazza — the 
velvets, silks and wool ; the wonderful Venetian glass ; their exquisite 
laces; bracelets of gold and curiously ornamented arms and armor; 
painting, sculpture — in short, everything that illustrated the glory 
and pride of lier who not only " held the gorgeous East in fee," but 
was herself wise and cunning in all handicraft among men. Silver 
bells ring out from every tower and belfry, and cannon boom 
from the forts and arsenal. The Ducal dignitaries are preceded by 
a band of fife players and silver trumpets; by children attired in 
ribbons and frills; servants and secretaries with taper, footstool and 
cushion, and by the captain of the city in velvet cassock and scarlet 
robe, with buckled girdle and clanking sabre, red sandals and black 
cap. The grand chancellor wears a senatorial garb, and is attended 
by a little child in princely attire, whose dimpled hand, with inno- 
cent ignorance, is used to pick the gilded balls from the urn of 
scrutiny on the election of the Doge. Now appears the central 
personage, in a mantle of ermine, with buttons of gold, wearing a 
blue cassock, Phrygian cap and jewelled crown. His long robe is 
made of heavy cloth of gold, and his sandals are woven in gold. 
The Papal legate is on his right, with square hat, surcoat buttoned 
from top to bottom, a lace-embroidered alb and a short cloak; the 
imperial ambassador, with conspicuous ruff and velvet bonnet, is on 
his left. Other officers bring up the rear of the procession. They 
embark amid thunders of artillery, and sail in the magnificent Bucen- 
taur toward Santa Elmo. The Patriarch and clergy here meet the 
Ducal party, and a vase of water is poured into the Adriatic as a pro- 
pitiatory offering. Arriving at the port of San Nicolas, the Doge 
speaks in sonorous Latin these sacramental words, "Desponsamus 

TE, MARE, IN SIGNDM TERI PERPBTUIQUE DOMINIl" — "We Wed thee. 

Sea, in token of our true and perpetual sovereigntj'!" 

One might think that, in the course of centuries, a pile of gold 
rings would excite somebody's cupidity, but the latest information 
on the subject is that the sacred ring was caught in a net and so 
made to do continuous service. The festival long ago ceased. The 
barge was burned by the French in 1797. Those who wish to know 
of the present festivals will find Adams' " Queen of the Adriatic" an 
ample guide. 

THE CATHEDRAL AND BELL TOWER. 

The brilliant panorama of Venice must conclude with these two 
pictures. They fitly close this imperfect review of a few of the 
salient points of Venetian life and history, with which every stranger 
should be familiar in order to fully enjoy his visit. 

The former edifice, in the eye of Ruskin, is the "Bible of Venice," 
written over with the truth of God. It is a symbol of the Bride of 
Christ, all glorious within, neither gold nor crystal spared in the 
adornment thereof. With exuberant fancy and glowing rhetoric, he 
turns over the illuminated pages of this great ' ' Book of Common 
Prayer, " and reads us a lesson from its pillars of jasper, gates of bronze 
and shadowy aisles, over which bend glittering canopies, some with 
stars and arches, that break into a marble foam and sculptured spray, 
as if the waves of Lido had fell frost bound, and the sea nymphs 
had inlaid them with gold and amethyst. Others, like Sismondi, 
have . looked on the bewildering tracery of vine ■ and acanthus, 
sceptred angels, signs of heaven and toil of man, and pronounced the 
spectacle at once ' ' majestic and mean, half awful and half ludicrous. " 
If seen by solemn nocturnal illumination, the interior may appear 
less tawdry and vain. The deep undulations of the floor, caused by 
the settling of the piles, gives one a strange sensation. The most 
interesting thing of all is that red and white diamond-.shaped 
marble which marks the place where Pope Alexander III., robed in 
pontifical vestments, that blazed with jewels, placed his foot on the 
neck of the prostrate German Emperor, repeating the words of the 
91st Psalm, ' ' Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder, the young lion 
and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet." The intrepid prince, 
Frederick Barbarossa, was a man, Milman says, of unmeasured 
ambition, severe justice and barbaric ferocity, tempered with chival- 
rous gallantry, having the loftiest ideas of supremacy over all the 
powers, temporal or spiritual. He writhed under the humiliation 
and murmured, "To St. Peter, not to thee, I kneel!" The pope trod 
a second time with more severity on the emperor's neck, saying, 



" To ME, and St.Peterl" nor did he withdraw his sandalled foot till 
his foe seemed fully humbled. Then, as a lackey, the haughty 
Teuton was obliged to hold the stirrup when the pope mounted his 
horse at the door. As Adams suggests, much of legendary fiction 
may gatlier about the facts. But the event itself is authentic, and 
invests the spot with an interest that the pretended relics shown by 
priests cannot inspire, such as a vase of the real blood of Christ, a 
part of the skull of John the Baptist, and other shows as silly as the 
bottled darkness of Egypt, or the sword that Balaam once wished he 
had. 

We pass groups of "the oldest family in Venice" — the tame 
pigeons, whose settlement dates from 877, when, on Palm Sunday, 
doves with clipped wings let loose by St. Mark's sacristans settled 
about the square, their home ever since. 

It is said that Milton onoe wished, if his sight could be restored, 
that his eyes might first open on beautiful Florence in the valley of 
the Arno. It is, indeed, a fairy scene, tliat city of lilies. 

No wonder that Milton longed to see it again. Dr. Guthrie, with 
enthusiastic admiration of that " Queen of the Highland lakes" he 
loved so well, exclaimed, "Will there not be a Loch Lomond in 
heaven?" Of the loveliness of Naples' bay much is justly said, but 
of the view from the Campanile of St. Mark's at sunset there are, 
pei-haps, as many extravagant descriptions in print as of any place 
in the world. The earliest I find is in the ancient phrases of Coryate, 
as quoted in a foreign periodical many years ago : "I thinke you 
have the fairest and goodliest prospect in all the worlde ; for there 
hence you see the whole model and forme of the citie, a sight that 
doth, in my opinion, farre surpasse all the shewes under the cope of 
heaven, a synopis of the Jerusalem of Christen dome." 

The Alps and Apennines fringe this vast, broad basin. The Adige 
and the Po pour their waters into the gulf, as the Meuse and the 
Rhine into the Zuyder Zee, making in both cases wide saline marshes 
and islands. On these portions of the lagoon, Venic* "lies like a 
swan's nest," with her white walls and palaces cradled in the wave. 

The eye ranges from the snows of Tyrol on the north to the far-off 
mountains of Istria on the east, and the Julian Alps which look down 
on Illyria and the land of the Turks. Let Lynton tell the rest;. " The 
Ixiruing sunset turns all the sky to opal, all the churches to pearl, all 
the sea to gold and crimson. Every color gains an intensity and 
purity like to nothing ever seen in northern climates. The distant 
mountains glow like lines of lapis lazuli washed with gold; the 
islands are bowers of greenery springing from the bosom of the 
purple waters. Great painted saffron and crimson sails come out 
from the distance, looking in the sunlight like the wings of some 
gigantic tropical bird; flowers and glittering ornaments hang at the 
mast-head ; everywhere you hear music and song, the plash of s^vif t 
oars and the hum of human voices; everywhere you drink in the 
charm, the subtle intoxication, the glory of this beloved queen 
among the nations. And when the night has fairly come and the 
world has sunk to rest, you lay your head on the pillow with a smile, 
your last thought — I am in Venice ! to-morrow I shall see her beloved 
beauty again !" 

The homeward journey was now begun. Only rapid glances were 
taken of ancient Padua ; of classic Verona — remembered for its 
amphitheatre and the tombs of the Scaligers and of Juliet; 
Milan, with its cathedral, its memories of Augustine, and Da Vinci's 
" Last Supper;" of the rich plains of Lombardy, rice fields and mul- 
berry groves; of the Mincius, by which stream Virgil was born; the 
quiet lakes at the foot of the Alps; the battleground of Solferino, 
and other places of historic interest. Turin was reached again, 
which is but thirty hours from Paris. My tour of Italy was ended. 
The words of Mantua's bard, which close his third pastoral, kept 
coming up in my memory as the long journey was drawing to a 
close. I had seen enough, and could say, 

" Claudite jam rivos pueri; sat prata biberunt. 
Close now your streams, O swains, the meads have drunk enough." 

May God bless regenerated Italy, and lift her again to her place 
among the nations! And may all the continental nations with Eng- 
land and America be forever united in the bonds of peace, of liberty, 
and religion. 



PRACTICAL TESTS OF THE GREAT VALUE OF THE MARVEL COPYIST. 

ITS WONDERFUL SUCCESS. 

A Circular giving a full descriptiou of this marvellously simple and useful invention forwarded on application. 

We have receivoil the most entluisiastic letters from those who have purchased the Marvel Copyist. To jniblish 
ail these letters would fill this eniii-e book. The following will indicate a few of the m.vny ( sks to which it is 
being applied by clergymen, and others, who have purchased the Copyist : 

ENTHTTSIASTIC FEIENDS OF THE COPYIST. 



Rev. Geo. C. Wii.ui.so, Sec. of tUo W. Va. Conference, and 
pastor of the Thomson M. E. C'liurch, VVhcelinfj. Va., sends us 
tlie following Class-Meeting notice which he wrote with a pen on 
a half-slieet. letter size, and copied neatly on the Marvel Copyist, 
so that he was able to send a copy to each member of his church, 
thus saving the expense of printing or much time in writing : 
"THOMSON M. K. CHLKCH. 

"Believing the Class-Meeting t'> be an important feature of 
Methodism, it is the custom of our (JHiciul Board to assign mem- 
bers to classes as soon as possible after they unite with our church. 
We give below the numl)er of the Class, name of the Leader, and 
the hour of meeting. Plea.se write your name opywsite the Class 
you desire to be connected with, and return this to your pastor. 
No. Lkaokr. Hotr. op Meeting. Sion Name Below 

1. E. J. Sione Sabbath, !i3^ P.M. 

2. .loUii llerron " Dig a.m. 

3. Fast or Friday. 3K f-M. 

4. H. I". Mctlregor. . .Sabbath, 9 j| a.m. 

5. W. U. Donaldson.. " :i>2 p.m 

6. VVm. Windier. .. .Saturday, 7j2 i'.m " 

Mr. Wilding in his letter says : " Your improved Marvel Copy 
iBt is 'a thing of beauty,' ami. to a minister, 'a joy forever.' '1 he 
registering tank is a solid improvement." 

Rev. C. H. Smith. l{edwoo<l, Cal., sends a neat " Hapjiy New 
Year's" card, which we presume were presented to the cliildren in 
his Sabbathschool. 

Rev. W. S. FiTCii, Canal Dover. O., sen.ls us six pages of 
original Sheet Music, piano music size, which he has finely repro- 
duced on tlie Copyist. 

A Professor in Iliirtwich Seminary, N. Y.. sends us a Synop- 
tical Table of the Conjugations in I.aiin. prepared for the class- 
room, which ho was en»ble<l, through the Copyist, by once writing, 
to place in the hands of each student. 

Geo. W.CAiti.ETON, a lawyer of Orayon, Mo., writes us " Your 
Marvel (k>pyist is all its name implies. The first experiment I 
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general warranty deeds. I copied also thirty-six of those. It is 
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Rev. \V. P. Sir.vw. West Liberty, Pa., writes : " I find the Copy. 
ist all that I expected, and more. It is truly a marvel, and meets 
my present need in pre|>aring lesson questions for the Normal S. S. 
Class, in .such a way that I could not do without it." 

Kev. W. \. YiNdi.iNO, Perryaburg, O., has sent us another 
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illustruied and copied. He .«ay8 : "The children are highly 
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ars, and well pays for the time expended each week." 

In a second letter he writes: "Your improved Copyist is a 
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Rev. C. F. Cri-;ioiiton, .lacUson, O , sends us a letter copied on 
the Copyist, which gives notice of a meeting of the Y'oung People's 
Association, in his church. Notices of various meetings can thus 
be prepared, at no expense for printing. 

Rev. F_ L. HiLLEit, Wyoming, Pa., sends us a written copy of 
resolutions which were passed by the Conference, and which he 
desired to have placed in the hands of his members. These he 
wrote out with the prepared ink and — but we will quote his lan- 
guage : " I have written and copied 100 circulars of two closely- 
written pages of note-paper. I have been using a No 3 Columbian 
self-inking printing pre.ss. Save for a large number of copies, I 
much prefer the Copyist. I made the copies nearly as fast as I 
could have run them off on the pre-ss, and saved all the tvpe- 
setting and other work incident to printing. The Copyist 'will 
save me a large amount of time and work." 



Rev. D. J. Staiir. York St.. M. K. Churcli, Cincinnati, O., 
writes; "Enclosed find $."17.10 for Marvel Copyists. I have the 
satisfaction of .saying, after having compared your Copyists with 
a number of others, and having twenty-five personal friends who 
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the market." 

Rev. .1. W. Doeoi.Ass. Albion Pa., writes ; "Copyist received. 
My suspense of fear that it should le a humbug has lieen all dis- 
pelled. From what I saw of one purchased in Philadelphia, by 
nne of our town, after 1 hnd sent for mine, I thought I was sold 
pretty cheap. I was agreeably disappointed. I ran off eighty pro- 
grammes for the Week of Prayer, and could have run off over a 
hundred clear and dirtinct. It is good — very good. All it is rep- 
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Rev. J. S. Rkhards, Dexter, Me., writes : " It works like a 
charm, and is a marvel indeed to all who have seen the work it 
does. I am more than satisfied" 

Rev. Rob't F. .Ia(Ksox, .Macon, (i a., writes : 'I am delighted 
with the working of your Copyist." 

Rev. John T. Ji;dd, Harrisburo Pa., writes : " For ejwedy suc- 
cessful multiplication of autograph letters, circulars, programmes, 
Bible readings, etc. it is unsiiriiassed. With one writing one hun- 
dred copies can easily be obtained in fifteen minutes. Pastors, 
S. S. superintendents and teachers will find it very useful." 

Rev. ALE.\.iMil.i.ER, Rincoes, N J., writes; " Have tried Copyist 
on a programme, and it works very easily an<' satisfactorily." 

Rev. W. H. TfUKlNfiTON, East Woodstock, Conn., writes : 
"Your Marvel Copyist came duly to hand with paper. I have 
struck off some 20O copies and it works admirably. I bought a 
Copyist of anothc r make some time affo fMm a Boston firm under 

the name of , paying five dollars for it. and it proved almost a 

useless thing. To get tli ink off I bad to scrub like a washwoman 
for ten or filteen minutes, and the number of copies I could take 
off was very small. Your Marvel Copyist is far superior in every 
way, an is a grand thing." 

Rev. Wm. H. Stiflku. Davenport. Iowa, writes ; " It is cer- 
tainly rightly named. I know I shall find it a valuable aid in my 
pastoral work. I wish I could have had it ten years ago when I 
began my ministry." 

Rev. Ueo. Daniei.8, Port Colborne, Canada, writes ; "Am highly 
pleased. The register and side scales are valuable additions." 

Rev. M. C. Bi.AiNE, Pittsburg, Pa., writes : " The Marvel Copyist 
is all that you claim for it, and is almost indispensable to the work 
of a pastor. I would not be without it for ten times its cost." 

Kev. 1). W. Elbekt, Shippensburg, Pa., writes ; " The Copyist 
has been received ; I have tested it and find it altogether as claimed 
by you." 

Rev. A. J. Clifford, Eiast Boothbay, Maine, writes : " Am more 
than satisfied. It has saved me in less than one week more than it 
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Rev. W. C. Bledroe, Lafayette, Ala., writes : " Am delighted 
with it." 

Rev. B. F. RoOF.KS, Berlin, N. Y., writes; "It is certainly a 
wonder of wonders." 

Rev. Wm. Codvim.e, McKeesport, Pa., writes : "I have taken 
100 impressions from a letter written to my church, and find it a 
perfect success. I am more than satisfied." 

Rev. T. S. Bailey. Carroll, Iowa, writes; "It is entirely satis- 
factory. It saved me forty cents postage the first hour I used it, 
besides being such a saver of time. It is a Marttl indeed." 



JL Q,XJESTI03sr -AJSTS^WEK^ED. 

Your advcrti.ieraent eaid that copied matter would pass tlirough the mail at the same postage rate a» printed matter : but our pOlltma^tcr think" differently, ana 
-usire .your authority for saying that it docs »b i __j ^^ Hawthobne. Kingwood. W. Va " 

., ,,..„ -^Ns.— hi-c Rule >o. v3. Page 600. I. h Oflicial Postal Guide for .Jan., 1880 : "Reproductions from originals of circular^, or other matter not in the nature of a 
,.^rjiV^ correspondence, produced by the electric jien. pap)Togniph. metallograph, hekiograph. chelrograph. or copimraph proceM. are entitled to pass in the mails in 
,!S1,„I^. *"'"<''"P''? ."^ iliird-class matter. Blanks made by these processes. JUlta oul in writing, are also entitled to pass in the mails at third-class rales the same aa 
printed •cnmnicrcial papers' tilled out in writing." 

"" I triMihle on this point in the New York P. O., and should be none anywhere. 



Remembi-r, in egnentlal featureH our MARVEL COPTIST U original toith u». It is far hrtle 
srlliifj, game a%xe aa mtr $B Lrgal Cap, at $1 to $9. 



thr beat of other mnUra, tr/iieA 



A SPECIAL OFFER AT $3. 

rrni^^erili'.'tS'^n'".'' "^ OCneral introduction, rve wilt aend a limited numl>er of our lateat improved $S Marvel Copyiat, in our patented 
registering tank*, to places tntchich they are not noxB in general uae, at $3 encli. i ■<• va > I 

1. K. FUNK & CO., 

lO & 12 DEY ST., NE^A^ YORK. 



WHAT EVERYBODY SHOULD READ. 



I. K. FUNK & CO.'S 

STANDARD SERIES. 

Best BOOKS at ttie Prices of dieap Novels, 

NOW MEjLDY: 

Vo. 1— JOHN PLOIIGHMAN'S TALK. (Ueual price 
ai ) By Kev, OiiAnLEs H. Spuhgeon ; and "ON 
THE CHOICE OF BOOKS." (Usual price. 60 cte.) 
By Thomas (.'AHLYLE. Both in one. rriee, 13 cte. 

•No. 2 —MANLINESS OF CHRIST. (Usual price. $!.■) 
ByTHfiMA.s IR'onEs, Q. C, author of " Tom Brown's 
School-bays." etc. A new and very popular book. 
Price, 10 cents. ' 

No. .3.— MACAULAY'S ESSAYS.— "Milton," "Dry- 
den,"" Bnnyiui." "History," two essays on "Samuel 
•Tohneon." "Athenian Orators," and "Montgomery 
Poems." (Usual price, $1.) By Lord Macaitlat. 
(The Essays on Milton, Bunyan, and Johnson are 
included in the Chautauqua Series.) Price, 15 cents. 

Ko. 4.— LIGHT OF ASIA ; or. The Great Benancia- 
tian. Being the Life and Teachini; of Gautama. 
Prince of India and Founder of Buddhism, told in 
verse hy an Indian Buddhist. (Usual price, $l..W.l 
By EuvvTO Arnold. This is a new and very re. 
niarUahle Poem. Of it Oliver Wendell Holmes says : 
"Its tone is so lofty that there is nothing with 
■which to compare it biittbe New Testament. Price, 
15 cents. 

No. 5.— IMITATION OP CHRIST. (Usual price, $1.) 
By ThoiMas a Kempis. Price, 15 cents. 

Nos. 6 and 7.— LIFE OF CHRIST. (Usual price. 
$8..50.) By Canon FARP.AK. WithoutNotes. Issued 
in two parts. Price, per part, 25 cents. For botN 
parts, send 50 cents. 

No. 8.— CARLYLE'S ESSAYS. "Goethe," "Burns."' 
"Luther's Psalm." "Schiller." "Memoirs of Mira- 
bean." (Usual price, $1.) P.-ice, 20 cents. 

Nos. 9 and 10.— LIFE OF ST. PAUL. (Usual price 
with notes, until lately, $6.) By Canon FAKRAn. 
Without notes, issued in two parts. Price per part, 
25 cents. Foi botli parts, send 50 cents. 

No. 11.— SELF-CULTURE. aTsual price, $1.) By 
John Stuart Blaci^ie, Professor in the University 
of Edinburgh. A valuable book. Price, 10 cents. 

On receipt of the prices mentioned, the above boois 
will he sent postpaid. 
Send Orders at once, as each will be filled in turn. 



ThYYing's NeT Hand-book of niustrations. 

A gathering of bright, pithy sayings of the great men 
in all aget; of tlie world, similes and illustrations of 
all kinds, va pages, 13mo. 
"A capital idea."— Dr. Durtea. 
"I heartily approve the plan." — Dr. Budington, 
y-tice, 25 cents. 



Five Remarkable Discourses 

For is cents, 

"Th.e Voice of God in Us." by Dr. Storrs; "Jesus 

as a Poet," by Dr. Armitnge ; Two Discourses by Dr. 

Ewer on Catholicity and Protestantism, and a remark- 

<i,ble Sermon in reply to Dr. Ewer by H. W. Beecher. 

l^ricCf 3S cents* 



Drill Book in Vocal Culture. 

ByProt. E. P. Tnwing. A New Edition. 



"An invaluable treatise."— i\'. Y. 

" Calculated to be of great service."— Prof . Chcbob- 

Frice, S5 cents. 



Five Leciures by Joseph Cook 

For 30 cents. 

We have rvmuininj: on hand a few hundred copies 
of the fulloiving celebrated lectures, in full, by Rev. 
Joseph Cook, which we will furnish (the five bound in 
one large pamphlet! at the reduced price. 20 cents. 

1. "Certainties in Religion."— 2. "The Atonement." 
—.3. "God in Natural Law." — 4. "New England 
Skepticism."— 5. " Triunity and Trinity." 

These lectures are among the most remarkable de- 
livered by this wonderful preacher, and fairly repre- 
sent his great gifts. 



Seven Great Sermons in Full. 

By the most celebrated Evangelical clergymen in 
Germany, Bound in paper, 8vo, large type. "The 
Gospel of Marah," Theodor Christlieb, D.D., Ph. D. 
" Sing unto the Lord a New Song," Rudolph KOgel, 
D.D. " The Old Faith or the New," Rudolph KOgel, 
D.D. " The Golden ABC," Rudolph KOgel, D D. 
"Three Ways to the Lord," Charles Gerok. D.D. 
" The Rich Man and Lazarus," Theodor Christlieb, 
D.D., Ph.D. " The Christian's Royal Survey of His 
Immeasurable Possessions," Theodor Christlieb, 
D.D., Ph.D. 

FricCt 20 cents. 



lectures by Pere Hyaclnthe in FuU. 

Translated from the French by Rev. Leonard Woolsey 
Bacon. Paper, 8vo, 41 pages. These are the three 
following lectures, delivered some time since in 
Paris, and which created so great an interest through- 
out France ; 1. "Respect for the Truth." 2. "The 
Reformation of the Family." 3. " The Moral Cri- 



The subjects are treated in Hyacinthe's masterly 
way. The themes and treatment are most pertinent 
to tendencies in this country at the present time. We 
publish them in this form and put them at a low price 
that they may be widely circulated. 

Price, 15 cents, . 



A. Famphlet for the Masses, — 100 Copies 
for $6, 

Justin D. Fulton's Replies to Beecher, 
Farrar, aud lugersoU. 

Tliree Sermons for 10 cents, 

Affirming the doctrine of Eveiiasting Punishment, 
by Justin D. Fulton, D.D,, Brooklyn. They are 
specific answers to .Beecher and Farrar, and of the 
ribaldry of Col. Ingersoll. They are well fitted to do 
good service among the masses. That they may be 
scattered everywhere, we issue these three sermons 
bound together, and send them by mail at the fol- 
lowing prices : 

100 Copies, $0: SO Copies, $S.S0 : Single 
Copy, 10 cents. 

They are now ready for delivery. Clergymen, will 
it not well repay you to have your churches order 
these pamphlets in quantities, aud place them in the 
hands of the masses ? 

"Dr. Fulton has been preaching some marked ser- 
mons. One is a reply to Mr. Beecher, one a reply to 
Canon FaiTar, aud another discusses other errors of 
the time. No one cau misuuuerstaud Dr. Fulton's po- 
sition. He is always on the side of the Bible."— Rev. 
R. S. ilcABTHUR, in the Chicago SianUa/d. 

"■VVTiile other watchmen on tne watis oi orthodoxy 
aie slnmbering apou thea posts, or even parleying 



with the enemy, the Rev. JuBtin D. Pnlton is as Tigl- 
lant and uncompromisingasever. Lifting up his voice 
like a trumpet, he warns against the danger without 
and the treachery within — against so-called science 
and the preachers who seek to propitiate ii by explain- 
ing away hell."— .V. 3'. Sun. 

S-nd 30 cents for a Copy, 



In response to many requests for a portable faaml. 
book of 

"Facts About Tobacco," 

we have desired Rev. Prof. Thwing to prepare snch a 
work. Into seventy-two pages he has condensed a 
vast amount of helpful information. The following 
is an Odtline op Topics : 

Chapter I. History of the Plant— Chapter II. Scien- 
tific Views Presented.- Chapter III. Testimony of 
Medical Experts.— Chapter IV. The Habit Ethically 
Viewed.— Chapter V. Moral and Religious Considera- 
tions. 

Like the " Preacher's Cabinet " by the same anthor, 
" Facts About Tobacco"' is brimful of vivid incidents 
tersely told. It is a book every one should have, 
whether he is battling against tobacco or not. It is full 
of statistics and facts every public teacher should have 
at hand. 

"WUAT the press SAY« , 

"This is by far the besr pinii|.hlei ..n the noxious 
weed aud its hahirual "s'' 'li;!! ,-. . i. !>■ -ecu iB-iifd 

since the lamented dentil - > i l i :, -k. Wc wi-re 

hoping God \voiild raise nj.: -!.■.■■>-"; ■ him in tins 
important reform. Is I'luf. 'J hv, ii:^ tlic coming 
man '/"—Zion'.^ lUiuld. 

"The pubiect has seldom, if ever, been more power- 
fully presented. "-O/i/'ijt/iari Intelligencer, New York. 

" Success to it." — Congregalionalist, Boston. 
Price, Postage Frepaid, X3 cents. 



How to Enjoy Life ; or, Practical Hlntfi 
on the Preservation of Health. 

By W. M. Cornell, M.D., S.T.D., LL.D. Fourth Edi- 
tion Ready. 

" The laws of health are stated with great perspi- 
cuity."— -Boston Saturday Evening Expives. 

"Every person who thinks should read this practi- 
cal and sensible book."— Philadelphia Press. 

Price Seduced to $t. 



Photographs of Prominent Clergymen. 

The Photographs offered below are excellent, nearly 
all taken specially for us by one of our best Photo- 
graphic Artists. 

In many places photographs of celebrated mta sell 
at 50 cents, Imperial sixe : 15 cents carte de visile. 

We will send photographs, postage prepaid by ns, 
of any one of the following clergymen, on receipt of 
20 cents Imperial size, and 10 cents carte de cisite size: 

Joseph Rylance, D.D.— C. F. Deems, D.D.— S. D. Bnr- 
chard, D.D. —Howard Crosby, D.D.— Robert Colyer, 
D.D.— Late Wm Ives Budington, D.D.— H. M. Scud- 
der, D.D.— R. S. Storrs. D.D.— Noah ochenck, D.D.— 
Bishop Littlejohn.— Late Rev. Dr. Inglis.— Rt. Rev. 
Samuel Provost, D.D.* 

* First Bishop of New York, and Rector of Trinity 
Church — a good photograph, taken from an old 
painting. 

■We have a very beautiful large Album, \s itli spaces 
for 16 Imperials and 128 Cartes de Vieite, which we 
will forward by express on receipt of $4. 



i%« above Publications of J. K. Funk & Co. wiU be forwarded by mail on receipt of the prices mentioned. 

Address 

Jt- IS.- F'TJJSITiSL db 00-, 

JO and 12 Deif Street, Nfiw York. 



BOOKS INCLUDED IN OUR STANDARD SERIES. 

We are adding rapidly to the list. Unless distinctly stated otherwise, every booU in this Series is given ■luhoUy 



No. l.-JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK ; or, Plain Advice to Plain 
People. 

By Chakles H. Spdrgeon. (Usual price, 90 cents) and 

ON THE CHOICE OF BOOKS. 

By Thomas Cakltle. (Usxial price, 50 cents.) Both iu one for 13 cents. 
The famoils book entitled " John Ploughman's Talk," by Spurgeon, the great 
London p oachcr ; written in a aenii-humorous vein, but every word 18 a gram of 
™id It h-i-i had an immense sale in England, amounting to more than 300,000 
SSnie^ It is quoted everywhere. This bool should be in tEe hands of every mail 
Stvoman in Ameiica. All will be fascinated with the quaint style in which it is 
written tud with the genius of the author. It will outweigh a million of the ordi- 
Zrych«ip novels, ft has heretofore been issued in 16mo form, nearly 300 pages, 

naij Liii,.ip i.i ^ ^^^^ _^ ^^ Bnund in the same volume is Thomas Carlyle's cele- 

' Choice of Books." This has been selling at 50 cts. 



and' been selling at about 
brated Edinburgh address 



No. 2.-aiANLlNESS OF CHRIST. 

Bv Thomas Hughes, author of "Tom Brown's School-Days," etc. A 
new and very popular book. (Usual price, $1.) Price, 10 cents. 
"Thomas Hughes' new book on 'The Manliness of Christ,' .iust published in 
England, is certain to prove a popular book. As to the way he came to write U, it 
is ftated that when Mi^ Hughes was cons derin- what ^TO'^^betteb'ist method o^ 
conducting Sunday aftcrno5n readings with a Sass in the Workingmen s College 
a su",.estiSn was made to him that a new association shou d be formed called the 
• Chnstiau Guild.' It was proposed that the members of this guild must be first of 
all Christians hut 'selected as far as possible for some act of pliysical courage or 
prowess • such as a medal of the Royal Humane Society for eavmg life from drown- 
ing, or the championship of the town, or distinguished in running, wrestling 
rowing, or other athletic exercises. Such a society would atti-»<=t »''« "f°™\^'|?^ 
energetic young men in its district, and 'so by degrees S'^'^ " higher tone to the 
6ports and occupations which absorb the spare time aiid. energy of young Engl sh- 
men.' While Mr. Hughes could not see his way to join this^ movement, he was 
compelled to admit that the Christian character needed to be 



thriTght oflliat divineiyimpressive and fascinating ' coiirage ' and 
manliness ' idealized and actualized iu the lite of Christ, and through Him made 



set forth in the aspect of thetruest 

portrayed as 

'manliness' 
possible for all." 

No. 3.-MACAULAY'S ESS .ITS. 

"Milton." "Dryden," "Bunyan," "History 



And how else could this lie 6 



' SamuelJohnson " (two 

„, ..,jmery's Poems." (The 

Essays 'on Milton, Bunyan and Johnson are included in the Chautau- 
qua Series.) (Usual price, $1.) Price, 13 ceuts. 
These essays rank among the finest writing in the English language. 

No. 4. LIGHT OF ASIA ; or, The Great Renunciation. 

Beino- the Life and Teachins of Gautama, Prince of India and Founder 
of Buddhism, told in verse by an Indian Buddhist. (Usual pnce, i-\.m. ) 
By Edwin Arnold. This is a new and very remarkable poem. Price, 
15 cents. 

From Oliver Wenildl Holmes.— It is a work of great beauty. It tells a story of 
intense iulerest which never flags for a moment ; its descriptions are drau n by the 
hand of a master \vitb the eye of a poet and the familiarity of an expert with the 
obiects described ; its tone is so lofty that there is nothing with which to coinpare 
it but the New Testament. It is full of variety, now picturesque, now pathetic, 
now risinc into the noblest realms of thought and aspiration ; it finds language 
penetrating, fluent, elevated, impassioned, musical always, to clothe its varied 
thoughts and sentiments. 

No. 5.-miTATI0N OF CHRIST. 

By Thomas A Kempis. (Usual price, $1.) Price, 15 cents. 

Says Canon Farrar: "Among religious books confessedly human, the ' Imi- 
tation of Christ' stands, for diffusion and popularity, alone and unparalleled. 
Nearest to it is the 'Pilgrim's Progress;' but the 'Pilgrim's Progress' owes no 
little of the spell which it has exercised to the potent interest of its allegory, and 
yet even with this aid, it has never attained to the same astonishing pre-eminence. 
. . . The sweetest and humblest of books." 

H. W Beecher says ■ " Different authors produce different effects upon my 
mind.' Among those which I frequently read is Thomas a Kempis'' Imitation of 
Christ,' which I keep within reach of my hands, both up-stairs and dow'n. The 
frets and cares of life are apt to keep the lower section of the brain perturbed, and 
when you want to go to work on anything you are apt to carry trouble with yon. 
There is an underswell of discontent and unhiippiness in you which unhts you tor 
the work which you want to do, and some authors have the peculiar quality ot lilt- 
ing you out of that into a serene and happy state." 

Nos. 6 and 7.-LIFE OF CHRIST. 

By Canon Farrak. Without Notes. The Contents and the Compre- 
hensive Index iu full. Issued in two parts. (Usual pnce, §2.50.) 
Price per part, -25 cents. 
This is the most popular "Life of Christ "which has been wriUen sincethe 



abridgeft. 



From the N Y. Observer: "This Life of Paul will he read with jnst as much 
aviditv as if Messrs. Conybeare and Howson, and many others had not given us 
admirable helps in following the footsteps of the great Apostle of the Gentiles. 

"In giving the results of diligent research, with great charms of style and 
pictorial power, Dr. Farrar is a master." 

From Rev Di\ CuyUr : " Paul becomes a wonderfully real personage as he 
moves' across Farrar's vivid pages. Eembrandt never made a portrait stand out 
more sharply from the canvas." 

Fro»i the Boston Congregalionalist : "Vfe think that few will deny this to be 
probably the most interestmg life of Paul ever published.' 

No. 11.— SELF-CULTURE. InteHectual, Pliysical and Moral. 

By John Stcart Blackie, Professor in the University of Edinburgh. 
(Usual price, SI.) This is a very valuable book. Price, 10 cents. 

Nos. 12-19.— KNIGHT'S CELEBRATED POPULAR HISTORY 
OF ENGLAND. 

Notes, appendix and letterpress complete in eight parts. Price per part, 
35 cents, or iu two large volumes bound iu cloth, $3.60. (Former 
price, S18.) 

LET IT BE RE3rEMBERED—T\\a.i our edition of Knight's History 
is not a hastily and imiierleetl.v inintcd one, lil<e m^i'/.v/^^h'^^P poo'cs^on the 



Gospels were closed. Nearly 300,000 copies have been sold. It should be 
family. This Life, and the companion """■ "' «' ^""^ nrn of preat val 
Sabbath-school teacher and all lov 



every 
of St. Paul, are of great value to the 
s of the Bible. 



No. 8.— CARLYLE'S ESS.\YS. 

"Goethe," "Burns," "Luther's Psalm," "Schiller," "Memoii-sof 
Mirabeau." (Usual price, $1.) Price, 20 cents. 

These essays need no commendation. They are known and admired the world 
over. 

Nos. 9 and 10.— LIFE AND WORK OF ST. PAUL. 

By Canon Farrab. This is one of the ablest works of the past decade. 
Like the celebrated Life of Christ, hy the same author, this Life of 
St. Paul throws a flood of light over portions of the Scripture. Without 
Wotes. Comprehensive contents and index complete. Issued in two 
parts. Price per part, 35 cents. 



;,//,/ 



pubUc, in a 
ut of the con- 
elieapcned the 

vMn-r and piiiitiim' fnTu " seciiiul-liand " worn 
„ ,„:r III,,,' s,l „,, ,,-l,.Jhi f.,1- II, h ,i:,-,rk, and use 
lat we use in "Ji.liii i'luu-liruaii " and other 
^. No xVnierican repriut will compare with this 
fely commend it. 
;omply with their agreement by forwarding at 



market. There is a eh* 
single volume of wliicli we 
tents and mauy important • 
work by using tliiii, ■■lir;i]» 
electrotypes. TIV /;■',,, i j',-< 
the same quality n[ iiaiivr 
boolcs of our Slfnitlnnl ,S.r, 
edition. Our friemls can s 
Subscribers will please 
once the price of the work. 

THE PRICE TO BE ADVANCED. 

Owing to the enormous advance in paper, we will be compelled to 
increase the price of this work ONE SIXTH as soon as the first edition 
is exhausted. Those who wish the work at the above price should order 
at once. 

Nos. 20 ami 21.-LETTERS TO WORKMEN AND LABORERS; 
Fors Clavigera. 
By John KusKiN. (Usual price, S3.) Issued in two parts. Price per 

part, 15 cents. 

Ttnskin's renutation as a writer is world-wide. In these remarkable letters he 
furnishes nn abundance of food for reflection. They are full of q^uamt Kuskiman 
advice to all sorts of laborers, whether they work with hand or bram. 

The assault on communistic ideas is vigorous, although the standpoint is 
monarchi'al! The placing of these books in the. hands of the masses is timely. 

Of Ttuskin savs Charlotte Bbont£ : "Mr. Euskin seems to me one ot the 
few genuine writers, as distinguished from bookmakers, of this age. He writes 
like a consecrated priest of the Abstract and the Ideal." 

Savs Eraser's Jlanazine: " Unquestionably one of the most remarkable men of 
this-Sv we not say of any ?-age is Mr. Ruskin. He ie, if you like, not seldona 
dog^Sfc! self-contSictoryf conceited, arrogam, and absurd ; but he is a great and 
wonderful writer." . 

T/ie Westminster Review, warmly commending Euskin's writings for then: 
earni ne's says: "Eren eloquently advocated with the honest conviction 

?hM it is truth, is better than truth coldly believed and languidly proclaimed." 

No. 22.— IDYLS OF THE KING. 

By Alfred Tennyson, Poet-Laureate of England. Price, 30 cents. 
Tennvson has never written anything more exquisitely, beautiful than these 
Idyls. They are arranged in this publication in the order designed by the poet. 

No. 23.— ROWLAND HILL : His Life, Anecdotes, and Pulpit 
Sayings. 

By Rev. Vernon J. Charlesworth. With an Introduction by Key. 
Charles H. Spurgeon. Price, 15 cents. 

This is the first American reprint of this interesting and valuable book. It is 
very popular in England. 

No. 24.-T0WN GEOLOGY. 

By Charles Kingslev, the celebrated Canon of Chester. (Usual price, 
$1.50.) Price, 15 cents. 

This book is wTitten in Canon Kingsley's inimitable style It treats of : I. 
The Soil of the Field II. The Pebbles in the Street. UI. The Stones in the Wall. 
IV The Coal in the Fire. V. The Lime in the Mortar. VI. The Slate on the 
Hoof. 

No. 20.-ALFRED THE GREAT. 

Bv Thomas HconES, Author of "Tom Brown at Oxford," "Manliness 
of Christ," etc. (Usual price, S1.50.) Price, '20 cents. 

No. 26.-OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 

By Rev Edward Patson Thwing, Author of " Hand-book of Dlustra- 
tions," "Drill-Book iu Vocal Culture," etc. Price, 30 cents. 
This new volume is full of novel interest, describing in a series ot brilliant 
word-pictures outdoor life abroad, from the Hebrides to Venice mcludmgskeehes 
of people and places, and street scenes m Ireland Wales, Scotland England, 
FraScerHolland, Belgium, Germany, Svvitzerland, and Italy The whole is fully 
illustrated by engravings and etchings, and contains a full index. Competent 
critics, who have Examined the work in sheets, pronounce it most piquant.and vivid 
in style and trathfiil in delineation. "Bright, breezy, and beautiful. 



AU of the above sent, postage prepaid, on receipt of price. 

I. K. FUNK & CO., 10 and 12 Dey St., New Torlc. 



A MAGAZINE OF SERMONS INVALUABLE TO ALL LOYERS OF GOOD PREACHING. 

THE PREACHER ANDJIOMILETIC MONTHLY. 

This Monthly te «»«,• m ,-apUU,j increm,di,vd,rcuUfU.va^ duHnj the past few „wnths 
It hcs bg far the largest eireidation of any similar Maga-.i„e i,. tU world. It is the aUest 

CaJlJs'TjuiriLtlf' *^ "'"""^''' "^ '•" ^"*"'«"* *"-»»«- *" «- ^nitsd Slate, a.i.l U the 
HeJlT^i:Z!ltS'ZST-'''"'''''''"""'''''-"''^'"''^ 



A NECESSITY TO THE MINISTER. 

" The editor has made this monthly a necessity to thousands of 
ministers."— i\r. Y. Ghri&tiaii Intelligencer. 

i- INDISPENSABLE TO EPFICIENCT IN THE PULPIT. 

" I have just finished reading the last number of the Preacher 
AND HoMiLETic MONTHLY, and I Can most heartily say that such a 
periodical is one of the greatest wants of the day, and that it is the 
most complete realization of such a periodical within the range of 
my knowledge. No minister or student of theology should be 
without it. It is indispensable to efficiency in the pulpit at the 
present day. No preacher should be without the knowledge and 
assistance which it gives in keeping ourselves in intelligent and 
effective sympathy with the wants of the people in these times."— 
Samuel Sprecher, D.D., LL.D., Wittenberg College, Springfield, 
Ohio. 

THE practical PORTION WHICH FOLLOWS THE SERMONS A CHIEF 
ATTRACTION". 

"I myself look forward with interest to the arrival of each new 
number of your periodical. It must be of great service to all 
ministers who use it properly. Its chief attraction to me is in the 
practical portion that follows the sermons."— David D. Demarest, 
D.D., Professor of Pastoral Theology and Sacred PJietoric in the 
Theological Seminary (Reformed), at New Brunswick, N. J. 

A RICH TREASURY OP THE RIPEST THOUGHT OF THE PULPIT. 

" Ought to command the attention of ministers, students, and 
readers generally who are interested in the religious discussions of 
the day."— iV^eto Tork Christian Advocate. 

" A rich treasury of the ripest thoughts and the most powerful 
utterances of the American and foreign pulpit."— Christian Advo- 
cate, Buffalo, N. Y. 

CONTENTS OF THE MAY NUMBEE OP THE 

Sermon ic : 

The Sigh of David, by the Rev. Canon Farrar 

Ood Repudiated, by J. L. Burrows, D.D. 

Our Knowledge of God, by Bishop R. S. Foster. 

Gethsemane, by Joseph Elliot. 

Property in Souls, by C. B. Crane, D.D. 

Complete in Christ, by A. S. Hunt, D.D. 

An Aim in Life, by Rev. Prof. E. B. Coe. 

The Church a Spiritual, not a Secular Power, by J. M. Ludlow D D 

Fruits of Conflict, by Rev. Chalmers Easton * ' " ' 

Cross-bearing, by Rev. W. C. Richards, Ph D 

Christ the First Fruits, by Hugh S. Carpenter D D 

The Daily Cross, by J. B. Thomas, D.D. 

Romanism and the Republic, by Rev. D. J. Starr 

Godliness Profitable, by J. J. Carruthers, D.D. 

The Gospel of the Pentateuch God's Remedy for Sin bv T W 
Chambers, D.D. ' / • ■ 

Communion Service : 

Sacramental Tlioughts, by Joseph Parker D D 
The International S. S. LESSONS-Homiieti'cally Considered, by 

Kev. D. C. Hughes, A.M. 
Brotueuly Talks with Young Ministers, No. VIII bv 
Tlieodore L. Cuyler, D.D. ^ 

Prayer-Meeting Service, by Rev. Lewis 0. Thompson. 



none other equal to it. 
" I am acquainted with a good many periodicals of its kind but 
I know of none other which is in all respects equal to it. Besides 
I thmk it grows better and better all the time."— Rev David 
Winters, Philadelphia, Pa. 

SECURES INTERCHANGE OF VIEWS. 

" It is well adapted to make clergymen better acquainted with 
each other's ideas of preaching and work."— TAc CongreffationaUst, 



A COMPENDIUM OF SPECIAL INTEREST. 

"A compendium of studies, suggestions on critical papers of 
special interest to clergymen."— rA« Mto York Observer. 

CLERGYMEN CANNOT HELP TAKING IT. 

" The Monthly is so interesting that we clergymen cannot help 
taking and studying it."— Justin D. Fulton, D.D. 

" It is just what clergymen of all denominations need. It sur- 
passes anything of the kind I know of. You deserve the gratitude 
of ministers." — Rev. D. C. Hughes. 

"A service to us all. Am grateful for it."— Joseph T. 
DUEYEA, D.D. 

NOTHING IN ENGLAND H.U,P SO GOOD. 

" We have nothing in England half so good in form or con- 
tents."— John Greenfield, D.D., British Chaplain of Rouen, 
France. 

INDISPENSABLE TO THE PREACHERS. 

" Indispensable to any man who wishes to keep posted on the 
pulpit of to-day. It is suggestive and helpful in a high degree to 
a preacher."— C7a'cai/() Standard. 

PEEAOHER AND HOMILETIC MONTHLY. 

Li^i^j^upoN Important Texts, No. 1, by Howard Crosby, 

Studies in the Book of Revelation, No. IX., by Rev D C 
Hughes, A.M. j ■ • 

Preachers Exchanging Views : 

Comfort to a Discouraged Brother.— A Word of Comfort from 
the Laity to " Horace."— Public Prayer.— Preserving Scraps— 
Another Good Way.— How to get Lay Members to Work — 
A Course in Scripture Lessons.— A Plau for Recordin>i- Sermons 
Themes and Tests Discussed, and other Ministerial Work ~ 
A Record of Illustrations.— Important to Read what you don't 
Believe.— The Devotional Part of the Service 

Sermonic Criticism : 
Manuscript versus Extempore Preaching.— The Stao-es of Con- 
version.— A Misinterpreted Test—" Eye hath not seen." 

Living Issues for Pulpit Treatment : 
Worship and the Fine Arts. 

Queries and Answers. 

Helpful D.\ta in Current Literature, by Rev. Prof. E. P. 
Thwing. 

Illustrations and Similes. 

Themes and Te.xts op Leading Sermons Preached During 
the Month. 

Suggestive The.mes. 



THE MAY NUMBER SENT AS SAMPLE COPY FOR 25 CENTS. 

''"^'"ISScLl; airr' ^^■^^'^/-" l^^e present to Cleraymen. an<l Theological Students. $2, if paid 
sttictly m advance. Send 25 cents for a samiHe copy, or $2 for a year's subscription NOW. 

I. K. FUNK & CO., 10 & 12 Iley St., New York. 



